Half Life Animus
by Titen-Sxull
Summary: Twenty-One years after the Black Mesa incident the human race is still struggling to survive and defeat the oppressive alien empire known as the Combine. One of those fighting for the Resistance is Julian Miles, assassin and son of Desmond Miles.
1. Chapter 1: Red Shift

**Quick author notes:**

The following a cross-over fan-fiction combining the Half-Life and Assassin's Creed story-lines. At the end of Assassin's Creed 2 there are hints that Earth is about to face a global disaster. This fan-fiction assumes that the Global Disaster the First Civilization are trying to warn us of is in fact the Black Mesa incident and subsequent Combine invasion. The story takes place in America and revolves around the American Resistance (as opposed to the City 17 Resistance in HL2).

Chapter One: Red Shift

He could hear the sound of the engine, of the wheels sliding, pumping furiously along the track. His eyes, cloaked in shadow, watched as the serpentine form made its way around the curve coming toward the tunnel. He was perched there in the upper part of the structure balanced perfectly on a precipice awaiting his prey. The horn of the train blasted in his ears.

"Did you hear that Shephard? It's right on me," the cloaked figure relayed into his ear piece.

"Good kid," the gruff voice of Colonel Adrian Shephard replied, "What we want is in the third to last car."

Julian smiled almost imperceptibly picking the perfect moment to leap from his perch landing in a roll atop the speeding train. He didn't even hesitate racing right for the third car from the end and throwing open the trap door. Julian dropped down, with his fingers gripping the hatch rim, to find the car was guarded by a lone Combine soldier. The skilled assassin swung his legs around the guard's neck and pulled the soldier toward him letting go of the rim as he did to free his hands and driving his hidden blade deep through the soldier's mask. Julian hit the car floor with a thud but was on his feet in seconds finishing the screaming soldier.

"Poor bastard didn't even get his gun up," Julian smirked inspecting the crates the car contained. As their intel had told them each crate contained dozens of explosive mines known as Hoppers.

"They were likely reading his vitals," Shephard warned over the com, "they'll know you're there."

A sudden hissing sound split Julian's ears. It seemed to be coming from the com-device. Then he saw it, each of the hoppers in one of the crates lit up in the center as though awakening from sleep. With a look of incredulity Julian leaped up from the train car watching the trees on each side of the tracks whiz by at lightning pace and knowing he didn't have much time. With spring-loaded legs he leapt from the car-top opening his arms to embrace the massive branchless pine in front of him. He felt the tree bending forward, his body and the entire forest shaken by the intense shockwave as the Hopper mines exploded behind him. He turned back toward the tracks to see that the last cars of the train had derailed and that the caboose was flying toward him. He jumped from tree to tree avoiding shrapnel and certain death as the caboose fell to Earth a hundred feet behind him and lay a smoldering heap. The train itself had stopped, likely an automated emergency feature, most Combine trains drove themselves.

"Kid, kid," Shephard's insistent voice startled Julian from his thoughts, "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay but our cargo, not so much."

"I figured."

"Oh shit," Julian's eyes went wide as he watched what was now wading through the trees toward him, "Shephard, I'm gonna have to call you back."

The spry assassin shimmied up the tree he was in to get a better look at what he was dealing with but doing so only confirmed his fears. A Strider. Tall lumbering bio-machines modeled after insects and fitted with some of the Combines most formidable firepower. Covered with leathery tan skin outside but with an exoskeleton of extraterrestrial steel the Strider was a tough opponent to bring down even with the proper weapons and a whole squad of soldiers. Julian was alone.

Rather than allow the initial wave of panic to overtake him the calm-minded warrior sank within himself for a moment to determine the best course of action. His concentration was broken by the insistent cries of Colonel Adrian Shephard his friend and CO.

"Kid! Julian! What the hell is going on?"

"Shephard, is there a chance the train was carrying something that could take down a Strider?"

"Our intel said the key items of value were the hoppers but," Shephard's voice droned off and Julian could make out the sound of the grizzled old soldier's fingers tapping fervently at the computer terminal. Julian sat motionless in the tree eyeing the Strider warily as the seemingly sightless synthetic creature lumbered its way down the hill and began wading into the trees.

"But what Shephard?" Julian whispered.

"Looks like you were right," Shephard replied, not a moment too soon, the Strider was only a few strides away, "Possible cart full of explosive rounds on that train, might be enough to bring down daddy-long legs. Car is eighth from the bottom eighth from the top, right smack dab in the middle."

Julian wasted no time. He swung his body forward out into the open air latching on to the next tree over. He made his way across the forest diagonally, away from the Strider but toward the train. He had to be careful though, one false move, one bad grip or splintered branch, could alert the Strider to his location. The assassin slipped from tree to tree effortlessly before finally reaching the tracks and scrambling toward the train. He could hear the thundering steps of the Strider close behind him. Suspecting he'd been spotted by the gargantuan beetle he raced for the train scrambling atop the train and opened the hatch falling inside. He replayed the run in his mind as the thunder of the Strider opening fire toward him resounded in the car. The plasma bolts fired by the Combine Strider's wasn't to be trifled with, continuous fire would likely melt the train car wall and leave him vulnerable. Already dents appeared in the side of the locomotive.

Julian slipped out of the car and into the next one up finding it full of crates of food. Combine food, the kind that kept their soldiers obedient and was in all likelihood manufactured out of the soldiers who weren't so obedient. The Strider had stopped firing for now but had resumed its thunderous charge, this time in the direction of the train. Julian once again recalled his rush toward the train realizing that the car with explosive rounds was likely the next one up. With a calming breath he stepped out of the car and opened the door to the next one stepping inside to find two Combine soldiers ready and waiting. Despite their heightened awareness the assassin was fast, impossibly fast, lifting his hidden blade and jabbing into the gut of the soldier half a dozen times before his foe could retaliate. The Combine soldier lifted his AR2 rifle and punched the butt out toward Julian in a sweeping melee attack but the wary assassin avoided the attack by falling to the ground backward and lifting his foot to crush the Combine stooge's crotch.

The Soldier yowled in agony before being met by a throwing knife to the throat and collapsing dead. The second soldier, however, had been watching from behind a set of crates he had set as cover. His AR2 Pulse Rifle fired one round, two rounds, three rounds, and then stopped. Flabbergasted at how quick the hand of the assassin was the remaining soldier gripped at the knife protruding painfully from his chest.

Julian had more pressing things to worry about, he couldn't even stop to consider whether the soldier would live or die. The Strider had received a signal and begun opening fire on the car. These guards too were hard-wired into the Combine surveillance system. Julian jumped toward the crates and unfastened the crowbar from its perch on his back. He was amazed at how often the object had come in handy since the arrival of the Combine. Inside he found the explosive AR2 rounds tipped with unstable plasma that would detonate on impact. He grabbed the Pulse Rifle from beside the still flailing soldier he'd wounded moments ago and loaded the explosive plasma-tipped pulse rounds into it.

Suddenly the assassin's eyes went shut and his senses seemed to soar as though tuning to something around him. He knew the sound almost immediately. The Strider was charging its pulse cannon. The plasma bolts were bad enough but when a Strider wanted to create magnificent desolation it could just charge its pulse cannon and often level buildings with one shot Julian jumped up and out of the train car's hatch racing down the hill and away from the tracks as an incandescent and blinding flash split the air around him. He felt the shockwave send him forward and heard the crackling of the air as the remaining energy from the pulse cannon discharged. He'd come out of it okay, having been far enough away from the epicenter to avoid serious injury, though certainly flying head first into the trunk of a tree would leave its share of bruises. He couldn't dwell on possible injury now; the Strider was getting closer, likely inspecting the damage done by its cannon.

The assassin went over his options in his mind. He could probably make a run for it, escape the Strider and head back to base on foot or wait for the tripod to move off and then head back toward the bridge where he'd left his jeep. The other option was to kill the Strider. He hid in the woods for a few moments eventually deciding that undue heroics would more likely get him killed than win him the day. It was a lesson hard-learned for some. Julian's Mother, Lucy, was killed during the first phases of the Combine assault because she refused to bide her time. Her heroics and brazen courage were also her undoing.

Julian's quick feet moved him away from the Strider and toward the open wilderness ahead. Here it would be easy to hide from any Combine sweep teams sent to investigate the derailed train. A smile appeared for but a moment on the sprinting assassin's face as he watched the sun setting. Night was coming. Time of the assassin.

"Shephard," Julian whispered into his com a few hours later, "you there old man?"

"I'm here kid. You need to check back in more often," Shephard scolded masking his own relief, "You had us worried for a while there you know."

"I decided not to go after the Strider," Julian explained, "I broke line of sight and ran like hell."

Julian was seated in a broken down old log cabin, all around him the sounds of the forest resounded. The cabin had no ceiling leaving the stars peaking down at the assassin through the branches of the trees. Cicadas sang and the wind howled mournfully as it meandered through the woods. Already there was a chill in the air as autumn approached. Julian breathed deep and put his feet up on a rickety wooden table sitting in the center of the run down cabin.

"You're father's here," Shephard replied.

"Glad to hear he made it safely."

"Yeah, well I'm guessing he's going to have a few choice words about you going it alone again."

"Assassins are meant to work alone," Julian snapped, though the anger left his voice immediately when he remembered it was Shephard he spoke to, not his Father; not Desmond Miles. The anger in his almost eyes eased away.

"Maybe that's how it used to work kid," Shephard said, "but the lone warrior thing can't last forever. In this war we can't afford to be alone. All we have left is brotherhood, is the bond of our humanity, the Combine have taken everything else."

"Spare me the sentimentality Shephard," Julian sighed.

"Where are you?"

"Well let's see," Julian replied removing a map from a small pack he always carried and flattening it out on the table, "the map calls this area the Juno Forest. That makes the closest Resistance base to me Black Mesa, up in the mountains."

"That's Yakamoto's place isn't it?" Shephard asked recalling the equally gruff General Yakamoto, "Tough Japanese bastard. I imagine this means you won't be getting your jeep back or coming back here."

"Tell Dad not to wait up," Julian replied breaking the communication.

The assassin let the sounds of the forest envelop him. His tired eyes slowly drifting shut and sleep finally taking his fatigued body. Three hours later, before the light of predawn could fill the sky, Julian woke and prepared to move out. He surveyed the area before moving from cover to make sure no Combine or hostile of any kind had penetrated this deep in search of him. He pulled an energy bar wrapped in plastic from his pack biting into the bitter tasting bar and mustering all of his discipline to swallow it down. They were unbelievably disgusting but for energy there was nothing better and it certainly beat stomaching Combine brand Soylent Green.

Before the dawn sun had even appeared on the horizon the assassin moved out using a compass to make his way toward the distant base at the top of Black Mesa. In truth he doubted that was the location's actual name, so much of human memory had been lost to the Combine, so few of the species remained. The absence of advanced medicine and the tyranny of the Combine had cut the human lifespan in half and the Suppression Field that kept all mankind from breeding meant there were no children to teach. The youngest humans were, like Julian, in their early twenties. The Kelvin Mountains were in what used to be the American state of Oklahoma, at least as far as Julian knew that's where he was. For a child who'd grown up in the aftermath of the Seven Hour War Julian knew far more about killing than he did about geography. Still for an assassin knowing the terrain was important and General Yakamoto has chosen his land perfectly. Julian had been to the Black Mesa base as a teenager and he remembered the steep sloping walls leading up the mesa and the foreboding bunkers and buildings that Yakamoto had set up to keep the Combine out.

His feet ached as day turned to night and night back into day again. Still the stoic assassin had more miles to cover and he could not afford to slow even for a moment's rest. Night came again and he pressed on knowing that the base was only about fifteen miles away now and that he was on the threshold of completing the arduous journey. In the mid-afternoon of the third day the assassin finally gave in to his fatigue finding a safe place to rest in the hollowed trunk of a massive tree. Though he would have preferred to continue on, to stave off sleep until arriving at Black Mesa, his fatigue was weighing on him too greatly. Sleep deprivation was impeding his senses and if he could not assess danger or think clearly out here in the wilderness he was as good as dead. Six hours rest restored his body and within moments he was on the move again using the light of the moon to plot the path of his feet with the compass and map still guiding his direction.

As the sun at last rose on the fourth day Julian could see the mesa and make out the buildings atop the ridge. He was even more on guard now knowing that Yakamoto was no fool, the perimeter was no doubt laced with sensors and mines and possibly even sentry guns that targeted movement. The stealthy assassin moved from shadow to shadow, his footsteps so faint they could not even break the leaves he tread on let alone set off any landmines buried beneath the soil. To any who might have been in the forest he would have appeared as a blur passing through shadows cast by the leaves and branches of the trees or as a breeze dissipating almost before you could feel it.

Finally the young assassin reached the concealed path. A small trail that he knew would lead him to the front gate of the complex. Already he could see the guards coming toward him approaching with weapons drawn. He stood still then holding his arms away from him after pulling his cloak from his head and revealing his identity. The first guard, a gruff man in his mid-forties, did not recognize the assassin immediately but the other, a bit younger but with an already balding head, lowered his weapon.

"Julian?" The guard asked in his Italian accent approaching and shaking the assassin's hand, "it's been more than three years. I see you had that last minute growth spurt!"

"Giovanni," the assassin replied with a smile, "and who is your jumpy friend?"

"This is Theodore. Theodore this is Julian Miles," the assassin abstained from moving toward the guard afraid the clearly on edge man would take it as a threat, instead he just nodded, "You'll have to excuse Teddy, he's new to the guard, used to be the cook actually. So what you brings you here?"

"I was pulling a train job on a Combine supply rail about forty miles from here. Combine bastards were wise to it. They had a Strider trailing the train."

"You are lucky to be in one piece then," Giovanni replied slapping Julian on the shoulder, "what happened to the rest of your men?"

"Actually I was alone on this one," Julian said as Giovanni led him up the path to an elevator embedded in the side of the mesa.

"You tried to pull off a train robbery alone?" Theodore asked, his face openly expressing his incredulity.

"I am an assassin. Besides, other people tend to slow me down and end up getting themselves killed," Julian explained wiping off his hidden blade, still caked with old Combine blood, on a small scrap of cloth, "When its just me I can be responsible for only my own life. How's General Yakamoto these days?"

"Not so good to be honest," Giovanni replied as the elevator reached its destination and the three of them stepped out into the underground tunnel beneath the mesa where most of the activity occurred, "he's only sixty but already he's has his share of health problems. We're not getting any younger Julian, if we don't get the Suppression Field down soon we're all going to be too old to save the species."

"We better get on that then," Julian said noting the beauty of one of a female Resistance fighter, "because rebuilding the species sounds like a lot of fun."

Shephard paced to and fro in the com-room. It'd been several days since he'd received the last transmission from Julian. Shephard had tried not to worry. He knew Julian was a competent and intelligent boy, at least as far as survival was concerned. Assassins were masters of survival, their bodies honed to eat less and sleep less, their minds sharpened to make travel less tiring.

Something else was bothering him though. It had started the night before, flashes of memory he thought he had put from his mind, brought back to life. The vibrant resurrection catalyzed by two words from the lips of Julian Miles. Black. Mesa. Adrian Shephard knew that the Black Mesa Yakamoto had set up was far away from the New Mexico military base where all of this madness had begun but still those words spawned nightmares. On that fateful day so few of his fellow marines made it out of that cursed facility alive Shephard glanced over to a Vortigaunt friend of his. These brown-skinned bipedal aliens bore little resemblance to man, made further different by their singular massive eye. Their chief ability was creating an electric charge. It was part of their biology. The atmosphere in which they had evolved was filled with excess electrical energy created by the light of their sun. They had adapted to utilize this energy both subtly to revitalize and more directly as a weapon and defense mechanism. Shephard knew this all too well; back in Black Mesa he had encountered hostile Vortigaunts from Xen. After the Combine's arrival and the formation of the Resistance many of the Vorts, as they were often referred to, had defected and joined the cause of humanity. Even Shephard, who'd spent hellish hours combating them, had learned to respect their culture and understand the role they played in combating the Combine.

The steel door nearby moaned as it opened shaking Shephard from his reflections to see Desmond Miles standing before him. Desmond was in his mid-fifties. His hair was already gray and his face was covered with a beard that made his impatient expression seem all the more stern.

"Hasn't that damn kid checked in yet?" Desmond asked storming over to a computer console to check over the last incoming transmissions.

"No word yet sir," Shephard replied.

"We can't have him doing this anymore Shephard," Desmond explained, the anger in his voice changing to concern for his son, "if he'd taken a squad with him he'd be here already with six crates full of hopper mines."

"In these dark times shouldn't we be glad he survived at all?" Shephard asked though there was sincerity lacking in his voice.

"You don't have to defend him," Desmond said patting his friend on the shoulder, "You know as well as I do that what he does is fool-hardy. He puts the Creed above all else, he doesn't want to endanger any innocents and so he goes out alone."

"He will be okay," Shephard assured him, "he always is."

Julian rarely felt fear and when he did he often pushed it to the very back of his cavernous mind but as he walked down the hall toward the General's room his fear was not subsiding. He'd never met a General before, aside from his own Father and Yakamoto had a reputation of being ruthless and tough. Still Giovanni had assured him that the General was in too weak a condition to strike him down if he slipped up and did not show the proper respect. He pushed open the door and found the General inside working at a terminal. The battle-hardened but now aged General turned to face the young assassin. Julian noted the scars upon the General's face were many and that one of his arms was missing. Even with the limits of Resistance technology a suitable replacement limb could have been found or manufactured. Julian understood that the General was too proud for such a thing.

The two studied each other for a long time. In many ways they were they were opposite. Julian's eyes were a shimmering almond color, every step he took was light and his face was young and vibrant. The General's eyes were dark, his boot steps were heavy against the concrete floor and his face was wrinkled and scarred. Buried beneath Yakamoto's expression was the pain of the situation, of seeing the world prosper and then fall from Grace. A man who had lived to see a time when nearly seven billion men, women and children had walked the Earth but now there were no children and the last estimates of population put the human race far below one billion and aging far too rapidly.

"You are the assassin's son?" Yakamoto spoke at last, his breathing was labored and he wheezed with each word.

"I am," Julian said with a bow. The tension still hung between them brought on primarily by Yakamoto's intimidating demeanor. Even in failing health the man carried an aura of strength.

"My men have told me your situation and your story. What do you want of me?"

"A vehicle of some-kind, to get back to Clear Water Base," Julian began, "and ample supplies to survive the trip."

"You were trying to get hopper mines, why?" Yakamoto inquired, Julian thought it odd the man had changed the subject.

"Our perimeter defenses," Julian explained, "we use Hoppers to keep the Combine out. During the winter an attack came, the hoppers did their thing but now we're running short of them."

"There is a communications station not far from here," Yakamoto began, "The Combine have been using it to jam and intercept our com-transmissions. They cannot be allowed this advantage. We need com-devices to organize a direct assault on the station."

"So you'd rather go for something less than direct?" Julian replied nodded his understanding.

"If you get in and disable the station's capabilities I will spare twice the number of hopper mines the train debacle deprived you of and send you back to Clear Water with a squad of my best men."

"If I refuse-"

"You'll be walking to Clear Water."

"When do I leave?" Julian asked, shrugging in defeat.

"Yuki, my assistant, will brief you. You will leave tomorrow, before dawn."

"Yes sir," Julian stood at attention and saluted though he worried the overzealous nature of his salute might give the General the false impression that he was being sarcastic. In truth he had great respect for the man but as he shut the door behind him he wondered how on Earth he ever got himself into these types of situations. Giovanni led him deeper into the mesa complex to a room where an Asian woman stood with three Vortigaunts on either side of her examining a map.

"Well here we are," Giovanni said with a sweeping motion as if presenting the room to a possible buyer, "That's Yuki."

"Hello there," Julian said as charmingly as he possibly could.

"Have a seat Mister Miles," she replied coldly without even looking up from the map, "we don't have all day."

"How does she know your name already" Giovanni asked.

"Yakamoto's been planning this little misadventure since he heard of my arrival," Julian guessed and Yuki's expression as she finally looked up at him told him he was right.

"General Yakamoto has need of your particular skills assassin," Yuki admitted, "No need to waste talent while it can be found. That will be all Giovanni, thank you."

"So, Yuki, do you have a first name?" Julian asked.

"Yuki is my first name Mister Miles, but you can call me Major. Now if you don't mind we can skip right to the important business and past your pathetic attempts at flirtation."

"Fair enough," Julian agreed.

"You're target is here," Yuki dictated pointing to a place on the map about seventeen miles from the base, "It is defended by Combine Overwatch soldiers, at least a hundred of them. We know that the troops guarding the place get rotated out every month or so via gunships, tomorrow will be the last night of the current shift if our intel is correct. Believe it or not Mister Miles you will not be going it alone, we have a man inside, disguised as a Combine soldier, his name is Jerrod Young. He will be responsible for temporarily disabling the turret defenses of the perimeter."

"Why doesn't Jerrod disable the jamming device?" Julian asked.

"He is not permitted to access that area of the station," Yuki responded, though the tone of her voice instilled doubt in Julian about her honesty. Her words could lie but her body could not.

"And what should happen if he fails to shut off the turret?" Julian asked with a smirk.

"For that we have a special solution," one of the Vortigaunts growled.

"Come forth the Julian Miles and we will show you," another of the Vorts said gesturing for Julian to follow them.

They traveled down the corridor until they reached the room at the end of the hall. The Vorts knocked at the door, the giant red eye of another Vortigaunt appearing in a slit about half-way down the steel surface of the door. The metal portal opened and in they stepped.

"Here it is," one of the Vorts said gesturing to some kind of body armor stored behind glass, "the armor of all men who seek to be free of death."

"The HEV suit," another vortigaunt explained, "it will help you tread into dangerous environments."

Julian pressed a hand to the glass and regarded the suit. Its orange and black coloration would hardly be ideal for stealth, although while clad in his own white-gray assassin robe he did already stand out. The armor almost looked ancient, despite being behind glass, as though he was staring at a relic of an age long past, of a war fought long ago. The Vorts opened the armor storage unit and allowed him to handle the HEV suit. To his relief it wasn't too heavy and he hoped that the material allowed enough freedom of movement to be his same spry self when it came time to battling the Combine. Despite being well-armored and trained in the way of the assassin Julian still felt as though something wasn't being told to him. Yuki's earlier deception about having a man disguised as a Combine soldier had left him on edge. Most Combine Overwatch had been robbed of their freewill and been the victims of cruel experiments carried out by the Combine. Julian could scarcely believe that someone had not only endured the mental manipulation of becoming a Combine soldier but that they had retained enough of their freewill to strike out against the Combine in such a way.

Julian made his way to a room that had been cleared for him in the lower portions of the dormitory complex. The Black Mesa Base was indeed a marvel of engineering. Julian had heard stories about its construction taking more than twelve years. The concrete bunkers above were generally absent of all but the base sentinels and sentries but they were built up to present a false façade and draw the Combine's attention away from the tunnels. In truth there were only three elevators that even led to the surface bunkers atop the mesa and those were rigged to explode in the event of a full on Combine assault.

The assassin entered the drab concrete room and lay in the bunk they'd provided. For most sleeping in the cramped uncomfortable concrete bunk would have proved problematic but for one so young that he could not recall what it was like sleeping in a real bed it was easy.


	2. Chapter 2: Communication Error

Chapter Two: Communication Error

Julian opened his eyes to the darkened room. To most everything would have been black but to the trained assassin the room might as well have been basking in sunlight. Years of training during his childhood had helped Julian's eyes adjust far quicker than the average human as did his assassin genetics. According to his Father the assassin blood-lines had existed for thousands of years as part of an exceptional sub-class of humanity. At one time the assassins had numbers in the hundreds of thousands and had essentially been their own race. Julian knew his Father's words were truth because of the machine, the Animus, a device which allowed the user to explore history through the body of his ancestors.

The assassin left the room finding the hallway outside buzzing with activity already. A moment of panic washed over the assassin as he considered the prospect that he overslept though it dissipated immediately. Yakamoto had been planning this; the old man wouldn't have let the assassin oversleep. Julian found his way to the armory inspecting the arsenal of weapons Black Mesa Base had to combat the Combine. Most of what he found was standard issue Combine weapons, Pulse Rifles and the Spas-12 shotgun. There were a few non-standard weapons including a rather impressive collection of antique weapons manufactured before the Combine invasion. Among them Julian only recognized the AK-47 and the M4 Carbine assault rifles.

"See anything you like?" A familiar voice asked stirring Julian from his admiration of the weaponry. He looked up to find Yuki with two Vortigaunts standing beside her. She looked absolutely radiant although her stern demeanor was hardly becoming of such a beautiful face.

"I do now," Julian replied walking over toward her.

"Sorry but this is one weapon you cannot wield," Yuki replied with a smirk.

"So why are you here?"

"We have business Mister Miles," she said with a smile, "a certain deal you made."

"Yeah, about this deal, why is it that you lied to me about Jerrod Young?"

"What!"

"I may be young but I assure you I am not stupid," Julian explained, "You can't bullshit me."

"He's a scientist," Yuki admitted throwing her hands up in defeat, "not a soldier."

"Combine scientist or Resistance scientist?"

"Black Mesa scientist," Yuki blurted, her expression told Julian she had said too much.

"So he worked here?" Julian reasoned rubbing at the stubble on his chin.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss," Yuki said, her grim demeanor returning.

"Well this is the only Black Mesa I know of," Julian said wondering if she would catch his lie, "Is his name even really Jerrod Young?"

"That's quite enough Mister Miles," Yuki growled with a stomp of her feet.

"So the turret defenses will be up and running?" Julian hypothesized.

"In all likelihood yes and I doubt turrets will be the only defense," Yuki admitted honestly feeling bad for the lone assassin though her tone and expression hardly showed it.

"Well then, time to suit up," Julian said flashing her a lewd grin, "want to watch me undress?"

"I assure you that even if the Suppression Field were down I wouldn't."

Julian followed the Vortigaunts down a level to the room where his armor was waiting for him. He'd already tried it on the night before so he knew it would fit. Despite this he still felt utterly silly strutting down the tunnels of Black Mesa Base wearing such an absurdly colored over-the-top set of body-armor. The Vorts did another run down of the systems including the weapon storage systems which were what added the extra bulk to the armor. Each leg held room for a rifle or shotgun in the back and two knives inside the shin-guard compartment while the chest cavity compartment was to store grenades. There were loops around the belts to hang weapons from as well and as the assassin made room for several throwing knives and his trusty crowbar.

As Julian made his way down the twisting halls he saw that many Resistance members turned his way to regard him. He'd never seen such gawks and initially he'd assumed they were mocking him or at least taking note of how obvious he was in his orange armor. But further analysis of their reactions clearly showed they were looking at him out of respect or remembrance, as though they recognized him. Julian looked down at the armor suddenly realizing what it was they were recognizing. What was it about this HEV suit that had made even the Lieutenants stare at him as though they were seeing a ghost.

"When you breach the Com-Station you must plant this in the computer terminal," one of the Vorts said handing Julian a computer port drive.

"And here is a map that the Yuki Yakamoto says you will be needing," the other Vort said handing Julian a map that had the location of the com-station marked.

"So she's his daughter," Julian said with a smirk, "well that explains a lot."

"Be safe the Julian Miles, and return to us for your reward."

Julian stepped onto the elevator and hit the key to return to the pathway outside. He padded his armor again searching for a compartment in which to place the small rectangular computer drive the Vorts had given him. He found himself feeling utterly unprepared. He'd only brought one gun with him and that was a silenced USP pistol he'd modded a suppressor for from a standard Combine Civil Protection model. He found himself wishing he hadn't ditched the AR2 with explosive Pulse Rounds he'd stolen off the train though keeping it with him surely would have slowed him down.

The spry assassin raced down the path and back into the wilderness.

Desmond dismissed the scouting team with a wave of his hand and slumped into his chair despondently. It'd been five days since his son, Julian Miles, had left. What was meant to have been a routine train robbery had turned into a fiasco. Situations like this weren't uncommon. Ever since Julian had turned fifteen he'd played an important role in fighting the Combine even earning battle commendations during the Battle of City Twelve but only since his twentieth birthday had the young assassin taken to fighting alone. Desmond knew the true reason for this but he put it from his mind to concentrate on his anger. Anger was the only thing that kept his mind from worrying. Desmond could not, even for a second, allow himself to believe that his son was dead.

The world already lie in ruin, his wife already lie dead at the hand of the Combine. Billions had been killed during the Portal Storms when aliens from the border world had overrun the Earth but when the Combine came some humans assumed it was to save the Earth. Seven Hours managed to change their minds. Within a year of the Black Mesa Incident that had sparked the destruction of humanity almost five billion humans were dead. Desmond could not allow himself to count his son among those who were lost. His son was young and the young, so few and far between in such dark times, were far more valuable for only they could rebuild the species. Desmond lifted his head for a moment as Adrian Shephard entered the room.

"We can't afford to attract attention," Shephard said, "We can't afford all these scouting missions."

"He's out there," Desmond argued though his voice was weak.

"Yes, probably at Black Mesa," Shephard said visibly cringing as those two words left his lips.

"Than why hasn't anyone at Black Mesa Base contacted us to say he's made it there safely? Why hasn't he made contact?"

"Sir," a Resistance said as he burst into the room, "we've just received word from Julian."

"He's alright?" Desmond asked feeling a weight lift off his shoulders.

"Yes, the message was a little garbled because it was coming from what seems to be a Mark IV HEV suit but we managed to decipher it. Seems he ditched his com-device because he thought the Combine had used it to track him from a station near Black Mesa Base."

"HEV suit?" Adrian asked stumbling over the words.

"Don't suppose the Combine can track one of those," Desmond said with a smile.

Julian felt a smile come over him as he finished sending the message back to Clear Water base. He knew that his actions had kept his Father worried but he also knew that he couldn't give any hints as to why he wasn't back in Clear Water yet. Part of the assassin feared that the signal coming from the HEV suit might have been a hint in and of itself as this suit seemed to have a reputation far greater than the young assassin's own. Julian thought it advantageous then to have such a famous piece of armor adding notoriety to his good name though the idea seemed silly after a few more seconds of thinking. It was the talent of the man in the armor, not the armor itself that made the difference.

Julian crossed the distance to the Com-Station in two days reaching the forest surrounding the facility in the dead of night. Luckily the moon was nearly full and shafts of light cut through the branches of the trees to illuminate much of the forest. To average eyes it still would have seemed to dark an environment in which to fight even the most dim-witted of enemies but to the assassin it was ideal. He waded his way into the woods knowing the station lay atop a hill nearly a quarter of a mile away. His senses immediately told him that he was not alone in the forest. The normally sweet smelling summer breeze brought with it the stench of decay and death and of a leathery sort of sweat stench that the assassin knew could mean only one thing, zombies - the human hosts of an alien organism. These parasites, known to the resistance as head crabs, latched on to the cranium, altering both biology and behavior to create a stumbling humanoid beast with long claws.

Already the assassin could hear the footsteps of his foes ambling through the darkness. He could easily outrun them, zombies were not fast though the head crab parasite made up for this by giving them almost superhuman endurance and the ability to take a great deal of damage before succumbing to death. Julian rushed by the zombies without a second thought weaving through the forest with ease. Even with the extra weight of the HEV suit the stealthy assassin was still quick as could be and he covered the length of that patch of forest soon enough. He found himself dodging bullets as he came to toward the end of the tree cover as turret guns disguised in the bushes and undergrowth of the forest began firing on him.

Julian broke from the tree cover and found even more obstacles. Hopper mines were dug into the ground scaling all the way up the hill where the com-station lay. Furthermore the entire station was surrounded in what looked like electrified perimeter fences ringed with razor wire. The assassin backed up slowly considering his options. He shut his eyes and listened to the world around him quickly realizing that the turret guns had stopped firing when he cleared the trees. This meant that either he had given the zombies the slip better than he had thought or that the turrets were programmed not to shoot at necrotic matter. A quick glance back confirmed his hunch as a zombie shuffled his way out of the trees suspiciously free of any bullet holes.

The assassin sprung into action darting back into the trees dodging bullets and clawed zombie hands as he went trying to be sure no stray bullets harmed his zombies as he went. He ran out of turret range bringing an ever growing mob of zombies along with him. He ran to and fro here and there until he had attracted a horde large enough and then rushed toward the com-station. He found himself rushing up the side of the hill almost as if flanking the com-station perimeter. He was in a mad-dash moving between tree and bush to maintain invisibility to any guards who might have been posted but still trying to attract his loyal zombie horde with the promise of fresh meat. Finally he vanished into the night sprinting away at such a speed the zombie could not have followed even if they had known their tasty morsel was missing. The zombies instead had turned their attention to the gate of the perimeter fences and the guard house where two tasty guards were seated watching computer monitors.

The assassin watched from a distance through his binoculars as the guards began firing on the zombie horde. Overwatch soldiers began pouring out of the facility as nearly four dozen zombies stumbled toward the gate. He regretted that he couldn't linger to watch his zombie minions at work but with the side gate distraction in place he was all set for infiltration.

He weaved from tree to tree reaching the back gate soon enough finding the guard house empty save one single Overwatch soldier. The assassin pulled back a bit from the facility scurrying up a tree and retrieving his silenced pistol from the HEV suit compartment. He lifted the pistol lining his sights up to the Combine soldier's head, despite the distance and the layer of glass dividing them Julian was sure he had a hit lined up. He squeezed the trigger the round impacted on the glass but did no penetrate. Cursing his luck the assassin struggled to get another shot on the guard who was now crouched with his MP7 submachine gun up and ready. Julian fired another two rounds, the first bursting the glass to allow the second a clear shot right into the Overwatch soldiers head.

Overwatch soldiers weren't exactly ordinary citizens, Julian knew, and he approached the guardhouse quickly but with caution keeping his weapon drawn. He arrived finding the soldier scrambling for his weapon, Julian popped the struggling soldier between the eyes and his body went limp. The assassin slid into the guardhouse through the shattered window and hit the switch to open the back gate. The death of the soldier would undoubtedly alert the rest of the base to his presence. The gate slid open and Julian slipped inside the perimeter of the facility.

Floodlights had stolen most of the hiding spaces the stealthy assassin would have preferred to stick to. He slid up against the building flattening himself against it as he searched for a way in. From what he had seen of it the com-station was rather simple, one door in the front and massive communications dish on the roof. Soldiers shuffled by the assassin unaware of his presence and he found his opportunity to begin the climb to the roof. He leapt up into the air latching on to a very thin ledge and hoisting himself up to the next. Julian was glad to have the HEV suit; the gloves gave extra grip he was sure his bare hands wouldn't have had. Still the extra weight slowed his climb and made it more exhausting.

At last he reached the roof hoisting himself up and over onto the smooth surface, his chest heaving from exertion. He stood quickly finding a hatch on the roof and prying it up with his crowbar. Shouts from down below told him he was spotted and bullets whizzed by as he dropped down the hatch and into the com-station.

Julian landed with a thud but had no time to rest launching into a spin kick to disarm a guard, then diving away as the other guard opened fire with his Pulse Rifle. As he dove the assassin fired away with his pistol landing six shots in the soldier's chest before he finally dropped. The other soldier had his gun again, but the assassin launched a throwing knife from his belt which caught the soldier's wrist and pinned it to the wall. Julian walked over and took the soldier's gun shooting his foe as he walked away.

Ahead of him three more soldiers had raced up the stairs into the facility. He lifted the Pulse Rifle and took one of them out and the other two dived in opposite directions coming up into crouching positions on opposite sides of the room. The quick handed assassin dropped the rifle and rushed fully into the room taking a throwing knife in each hand he slid between the two crouching soldiers he released them. Not only did each soldier get a throwing knife to the face but both had been firing their MP7 submachine guns as the assassin slid between them their bullets had struck each other. Julian went back and got his Pulse Rifle finding that one of the soldiers was carrying a Dark Energy Grenade round.

Julian rushed toward the stairs seeing, at the last moment, a fragmentation grenade flying up them. The assassin had no time to think; he dived over the railing and rolled away barreling over a Combine soldier as the grenade detonated behind them on the stairs. The rush of the explosion sent them forward and in the confusion Julian pulled a throwing knife from his belt and jabbed it into the stomach of the soldier. Overwatch armor was thick though and the soldier was barely injured pushing Julian off of him and lifting his Pulse Rifle. Julian was quicker and out of the corner of his eye the assassin saw other soldiers rushing into the room, he pulled the secondary trigger of the AR2 letting off the Dark Energy round. A bright flash lit the room as the Dark Energy grenade struck the soldier directly in front of Julian. The assassin watched as the grenade bounced from soldier to soldier vaporizing them as it went leaving their blackened bodies enveloped in Dark Energy vapor.

Julian rushed into the next room his eyes immediately turning to the computer terminal on the far wall but not before he caught sight of something in his peripheral vision. Julian hit the wall with a crunch as the Combine Elite barreled into him. Elite soldiers were better in every respect, their marksmanship, strength and armor were far better than that of the typical Overwatch soldier. The assassin was left reeling by the blow but knew he had to move. Despite dizzy vision he managed to dodge the soldier's Pulse Rifle fire. The assassin fell to the floor on his back firing off rounds in the direction of the Elite as he did and managing to clip the soldier's foot. Julian rolled to his feet and bum rushed the soldier but the Elite soldier was ready and Julian felt a dull pain in his skull as the butt of his opponent's Pulse Rifle made contact. Julian fell with the blow and put his arms out to catch him before doing a spin pivot to sweep out the Elite's feet.

Down tumbled the Elite and up rose the assassin to finish him but the room was filled with Overwatch soldiers again and Julian had to make a mad dash for it. He found himself dodging bullets as he raced from room to room firing back only enough to suppress the pursuit of his persistent enemies. Finally he saw his way out, an elevator, he raced for safety but he was blocked by another Elite. Julian put his shoulder down to ram into the Elite soldier but instead of the soldier it was Julian who fell. The Elite soldier didn't realize it but the assassin had fallen on purpose. The soldier found out a moment later as the assassin opened fire from the floor and launched the soldier over him and into the oncoming crowd of Overwatch. Julian slipped into the elevator and hit the button to head down into the underground portion of the station.

The Elevator offered little time for the assassin to rest, though he finally had a few moments to catch his breath. His hair was sopping wet and sweat poured down his entire body. To his surprise the suit was holding up rather well despite taking almost a dozen bullet hits none of the rounds had penetrated the armor. As the elevator screeched to a halt Julian took several calming breaths to center himself. He was going to need every ounce of prowess to get out of this situation alive.

The doors opened and the assassin strode forward down what appeared to be just a maintenance tunnel, it didn't take long for the assassin to realize he was wrong. The smell of death and feces alerted him to the truth as he walked by cell after cell containing nothing but corpses.

"My god, what the hell have they done?" the assassin found himself asking aloud as he passed through the makeshift prison with horror in his heart. With each dead Resistance scientist and soldier he saw in each cell his fists grew tighter and his heart grew angrier.

"What they have done here is torture us," a voice responded startling the assassin greatly.

Julian saw the man then, huddled in the darkened corner of his cell hidden behind the corpse of another man.

"Jerrod Young?"

"Yes," the man said faintly, "yes that is what they used to call me. Jerrod, Young. Doctor Jerrod, Young."

"Stay back there, I'm gonna shoot the lock," Julian said taking aim with his Pulse Rifle and unleashing round after round on the lock. Finally the cell door swung open and Julian helped the scientist to his feet. He was a sad sight indeed, his face bruised from constant beatings, his eyes bloodshot and glazed over and his body thin and sickly.

"I knew they would send someone eventually," Jerrod said almost stumbling as he took his first steps.

Julian froze for a moment and focused his senses. He could hear the elevator on its way back down, undoubtedly carrying soldiers. He gestured for Doctor Young to begin moving backward down the corridor though he wasn't sure the good Doctor was all their mentally speaking. He reloaded his Pulse Rifle, lamenting that he only had that one thirty round clip left, and lay on the ground. The elevator opened and Julian's eyes went wide with horror. TURRET GUNS.

"Cowardly Combine bastards!" he yelled dodging bullets as he darted down the corridor with Doctor Young just behind. They ran until they reached the end of the tunnel barely out of range of the turret motion sensors, "Shit. I don't have any grenades."

"I've seen you before somewhere," Doctor Jerrod announced staring intently at Julian as though trying to recall who he was, "My God, FREEMAN! It is you!"

"Are you feeling alright Doctor Young?"

"Gordon Fucking Freeman, Grim Reaper with a crowbar, the hero of Black Mesa."

"Don't worry Doc, I'll get you out of here," Julian promised suddenly coming up with an idea, "you just stay here."

"No problem Doctor Freeman."

"Yeah," Julian said shaking his head and inching his way into the corridor once more. The assassin took two throwing knives from his belt and dashed along the corridor trusting the suit to protect him from any bullets that he couldn't avoid. His feet carried him quickly back and forth from one side of the hall to the next as the turrets opened fire. He hurled both knives then as accurately as he could and diving at the same moment. The knives spun elegantly end over end burrowing into the barrel of both turrets perfectly. He rushed forward before either knife could be dislodged and knocked the turrets over.

The maneuver had worked but Julian had been hit in the arm by one of the turrets. The suit armor on the limbs was far weaker than on the torso and when he had extended his right arm to release the knife it'd been hit. Julian shrugged off the pain, convinced he could easily tough it out. The assassin rushed back to Doctor Young assuring him the cost was clear before getting back on the Elevator.

"You know anything about this place?" Julian asked a rush of adrenaline, apparently administered by the suit, steeled his body against the pain.

"They know our weaknesses," Doctor Young said, "You're not him are you?"

"I don't even know who you're talking about," Julian admitted, getting ready for the fight ahead. With his right arm injured he was holding his silenced pistol in his left hand, luckily he had been born ambidextrous; it was apparently an assassin trait.

The door opened and he rushed into the room. He was two levels above the prison tunnel but three levels below the top floor. Luckily this level was abandoned save two Overwatch soldiers Julian had dropped before they'd reacted to the sound of the elevator door opening. The assassin raced for a computer terminal looking for the correct port before inserting the drive the Vorts had given him. He watched a progress bar race across the screen before the lights in the room began flickering and then, finally, shut off.

"Is there an exit on this level?" Julian asked returning to the elevator where the Doctor stood.

"Up one there is a secret tunnel they use to bring in supplies."

"Good to know," Julian said thinking they might be in the clear for this mission though his instincts told him not to get his hopes up. With the Combine it was never that easy.

The elevator again came to a stop but this time, with the power coming on and off erratically, Julian was forced to pry the door open with his crowbar. The room was dark but to Julian's assassin eyes it might as well have been noon. With silent steps he flanked the soldiers in the dark who were inching their way toward the darkened elevator listening as each soldier activated their night vision several seconds too late to see him. With no throwing knives though the assassin was left little choice, he put his silenced pistol right up to the Combine soldier's head and pulled the trigger twice in rapid succession dropping the soldier. The other Overwatch soldiers made their way to their fallen compatriot. Julian knew that their own night vision, built into their helmets, was technically better than his, but his quick and silent steps made him an almost impossible target to acquire. Soon the other two soldiers were dead and Doctor Young and the assassin were moving down the secret tunnel guided by Julian's keen eyes. The assassin lifted the hatch slipping out into the forest with the Doctor just behind him.

"Looks like the zombies are still on the attack," Julian said from atop the tree with his binoculars in hand, "and with the electric fences on the fritz they have their hands full."

"Will we wait until morning?" The Doctor asked taking a bite out of an energy bar Julian had given him.

"I'm not entirely sure either of us are in proper condition to travel," Julian admitted inspecting the wound on his arm, "but I suppose we don't have much choice."

The two of them moved deeper into the forest until far enough from the com-station to rest for the night. Julian sat against a tree letting out a monstrous yawn. He removed the armor from his arm tying a bit of cloth around the wound to put pressure on it and stem the flow of blood. It was a minor wound but out here in the wilderness and with the Combine probably on their tale it could easily prove fatal if he wasn't careful. Julian nearly laughed at that thought. Careful wasn't exactly a word that described him well. He closed his eyes and let sleep take him.


	3. Chapter 3: Synthetic Hostility

Chapter Three: Synthetic Hostility

"Rise and shine Mister Miles."

Julian's eyes flashed open and his heart filled with panic as he fumbled for his knife. Yuki just stood there and giggled as the panicked assassin realized the lack of danger and brought himself back to an acceptable level of calm.

"What do you want?"

"It's not what I want Mister Miles," Yuki assured him turning as the assassin got on his traditional assassin robe, "General Yakamoto would like to see you, as would Doctor Young."

Two days had passed since his return to Black Mesa Base with Doctor Young. The entire facility had been abuzz with talk since that day. Julian thought it odd that his actions had garnered such attention, most of it positive. Back at Clear Water his heroics typically got him scolded, though the occasional medal or military accommodation did tend to make up for his Father's grumpy demeanor. Even now as they strolled down the halls eyes followed them from every room and whispers of the blow Julian had helped strike were on many pairs of lips.

"So when does the attack to finish the station get launched?" Julian asked having heard from Giovanni that troops were being gathered to launch the final offensive against the com-station.

"With our communications back up we must move swiftly," Yuki explained, "Before the Combine get the system up and running or get too many reinforcements to be dealt with."

"I left the place crawling with zombies," Julian said with a grin, "if that helps."

They reached the room at last, the door hissed open and the two stepped into the room. The assassin could hardly believe his eyes at what he saw Doctor Young working on. To most it would have seemed an ordinary bed, perhaps even an operating table with all the machinery around it but Julian knew better; his father had told him about just such a machine. The assassin threw a distrusting glance at the General who stood in the darkened corner of the room with a grin drawn out on his grizzled old face.

"You know what this is," the General coughed out.

"This is what you needed Doctor Young for?" Julian gasped, "The Combine might have this technology now. Do you know what the combine could do with an A-"

"Doctor Young did not break despite their torture," Yakamoto assured him.

"He was pretty loopy when I got to him," Julian contested, "You can't use this thing General, if not properly tested the results of using it could be disastrous."

"The insights we could learn about Black Mesa outweigh that risk, but the machine is not ready yet," Yakamoto admitted, "How is the arm?"

"It was a clean in an out from the round," Julian explained running his arm through some basic motions and noticing it was barely sore, "no broken bone and no tearing muscle or artery."

"Lucky," Yuki mumbled under her breath.

"Skilled is more like it, I've seen this lad in action," Doctor Young said, "We could use him in the battle."

"No," Yakamoto said, "Mister Miles and I had a deal. Your Hopper Mines are waiting, as is an armed escort back to Clear Water. I am also willing to part with one or more of the weapons in my armory if you will not tell your Father about what you saw here."

"You think you can buy my silence?" Julian asked with an edge in his voice.

"You are an assassin are you not," the aged General cackled, "that has ever been the way of your kind."

"You don't know me."

"If you do not agree to this bargain I assure you that you will not make it back to Clear Water alive."

"You think any of your men can kill me?" Julian scoffed narrowing his eyes at the old man.

"Look kid, just take the deal eh," Doctor Young advised, "You don't want to end up having to kill Yakamoto's entire standing army."

"That would cut into my schedule," Julian admitted smiling at the Doctor before turning back to Yakamoto with an angry glare, "A weapon from the armory it is then."

Julian offered the old General an overly dramatic mocking bow and spit as he exited the room. The assassin was typically cool and calm in the face of social pressures because he was, after all, trained to stare at the tip of a blade as it barreled for his face and not even flinch. Still, something about Yakamoto and his sinister machine more than unsettled him. Had Doctor Young already fallen victim to it, did the Combine have one? The assassin put such matters on his mind as the door to the armory opened.

The assassin stepped inside going over the collection once more noting it was based more on brute force and rounds-per-minute than the subtlety that the assassin preferred to operate with. Subtlety, the thought brought a grin to his face. Most of his missions started with stealth but lately all had ended in open combat. Was he losing his edge at the age of twenty-two? The idea dissipated from his mind immediately as his eyes graced a weapon the likes of which he'd never seen. It was an assault rifle but was nothing like the other antique weapons in the collection and certainly wasn't Combine standard issue.

"Yuki," Julian said holding up the assault rifle and turning to her, "Can I keep it?"

"The XM8 eh? I suppose you can," Yuki said with a sigh at seeing the assassin's almond eyes light up, "Boys and their guns."

"I hope you've got a shitload of ammo for this," Julian said loading in a magazine and heading toward the firing range built in to the armory.

"It takes standard NATO rounds," Yuki explained.

"Wonder if I can mod it to take Pulse Rounds," Julian pondered with a big grin on his face.

Julian walked toward the elevator with his gun and all the ammo he could find for it being pushed in a cart behind him. He was stopped as he reached the elevator, three Vortigaunts, those that had helped him before, halting him before he could get on.

"Wait the Julian Miles," one of them said, "There is a gift we have for you."

"Yes, you must take the gift," another one growled melodically holding out the torso portion of the HEV suit.

"Won't Yakamoto be angry if I take this?" Julian asked, more weighing it in his own mind than asking the Vortigaunts. Their three inquisitive eyes stared back at him insistently. With a shrug Julian loaded the HEV suit onto his cart and wheeled it out to the trucks.

As the sun reached its highest point in the sky Julian and the convoy set out for Clear Water. Before leaving he'd insisted Giovanni and Theodore come along wanting at least a few of the men to be loyal to him and not Yakamoto. To the assassin's surprise though those that were in the convoy were already on his side and begged him to tell the story of his assault on the com-station. Julian was used to this sort of behavior, even those that saw regular combat needed a morale boost now and then and hearing any story of the Combine having their asses handed to them was usually enough to rouse morale. So the assassin took up the truck radio in his vehicle and recounted the tale and many a cheer went up as he described each battle as best he could. A certain reverence fell over the convoy when he spoke of Doctor Young mistaking him for someone else.

The road was rough. Since the Combine invasion many roads had fallen into disrepair. In the twenty-one years of tyranny over the Earth the Combine had perpetrated they had done little to fix the crumbling infrastructure outside of their designated "Cities". Even the Combine prisons, which in truth house more human beings than the Cities, were in horrible shape structurally. This was little issue for the Combine, for each building that crumbled could replaced by the cold steel of a Citadel, massive metallic spires that arrived via portal. Most of the Citadels had come soon after the invasion, when shadowy men had sold the human race into slavery and become the Administrators. Each City had one Administrator - tyrannical mayors that made the Sherriff of Nottingham look like Jesus Christ.

The convoy was made up of four big trucks and two smaller Sport Utility Vehicles which the Resistance had modded to place a machine-gun turret in. Each truck could only carry two. Julian and Giovanni were in one truck. Each of the SUVs held four men. Despite the rough disrepair of the roads the convoy made good time due to the flat farmland that used to be Kansas. Clear Water base was more than three hundred miles away from Black Mesa Base.

"So Giovanni, what do you know about General Yakamoto?" Julian asked, staring out the window at the withered and wild remnants of the Kansas country-side.

"He's my CO and a damn good leader I know that," Giovanni snorted, wondering why his friend would even bother questioning his loyalty.

"Relax friend, I'm not testing you or anything," Julian said with a disarming grin, "Just because that old bastard roped me into that mission doesn't mean I'm in league with him."

"He's your superior anyway," Giovanni pointed out, "you couldn't have refused-"

"An assassin can always refuse," Julian corrected, "Our free will is non-negotiable. Why do you think I have no rank amongst the troops?"

"You may not have rank but now you have their respect," Giovanni said.

"Yeah, about that, why is it everyone is so damn cheerful to me?" Julian complained with a scratch of his head, "What I did wasn't so spectacular. In the Battle of City 12 my squad took down twelve Strider's and a Combine dropship carrying who knows how many Overwatch and yet that didn't earn me more than a few combat medals."

"It wasn't what you did Julian," Giovanni explained, "it was what you were wearing when you did it."

"I figured as much," Julian said with a roll of his eyes, "What is so damned great about that HEV suit?"

"The last man to wear it was Gordon Freeman," Giovanni replied, "The Resistance wouldn't have even started if he hadn't been caving in alien heads with a crowbar. He cleared the way for half the scientists that escaped from Black Mesa."

"The original Black Mesa, so that's what happened there."

"Didn't you know?" Giovanni asked with eyes wide.

"My Father would never tell me," Julian admitted, "he claimed to be the real start of the Resistance."

"After Freeman vanished your Father was the one who rallied together the remaining Black Mesa staff and science team," Giovanni explained with his voice breaking with emotion, "I wasn't even your age at the time I joined your Father and heard the stories of Freeman."

"Gordon fucking Freeman," Julian whispered with a smile.

Giovanni considered his young friend for a moment wondering what thoughts fluttered through the assassin's mind. When Giovanni himself was that young his mind had been only on pleasure, on wealth and women and whatever thrill life had to offer. After the arrival of the Combine and the formation of the Resistance the human race turned from recreation to recruitment. Suddenly the decadence of human civilization was meaningless and the fight for survival against insurmountable odds was begun in earnest. Now the young, so few in number, did not have the luxury of pleasure or recreation. The countdown to doom was already only minutes from midnight as the dwindling population grew older with every passing day.

The September sun slowly made its way down the sky. They'd been on the road for more than five hours when Julian caught sight of it moving swiftly in and out of the trees. He elbowed Giovanni, who had taken a break from diving an hour ago, to awaken him. To most it would have appeared as nothing but a blur dancing between trees and in and out of the long grass that had grown up in place of crops. To the assassin, however, it might as well have been moving in slow motion.

"Hunter," Julian radioed to alert the others, "likely part of a convoy, be on the look out for Daddy Long Legs."

"What do we do?" Giovanni asked. It'd been over six months since he'd seen combat and that had been zombies.

"I'm gonna try out my new toy," Julian said with a wide grin displayed on his face, "You take the wheel."

The assassin leapt into the back of the truck using his crowbar to pry open a crate of Hoppers before grabbing his new XM8 assault rifle. He told Giovanni to slow down and allow the rest of the convoy to overtake them. He saw them then, tree towering tripods, making their way down the road and nearly in firing range. Julian took out several Hoppers tossing them down to the road hoping they would prove an ample deterrent to the Striders as they came in for the kill.

The sound of gunfire filled the air as one of SUVs opened fire on the speeding Hunter. The Hunter synth was too quick though even for an itchy trigger finger who knew how to lead a target. Hunter's were essentially mini-striders, with three very flexible legs and two turrets on either side of its optic units designed to fire Dark Energy Flechette rounds. These tiny terrors stood only a bit taller than the average man but absorbed damage almost better than a Strider itself and were notoriously difficult to take down.

The first Strider stumbled into Julian's makeshift mine field but none of the Hoppers could get high enough into the air to do any real damage. Julian threw out more Hoppers before climbing back into the cockpit and telling Giovanni to speed up. The Striders were in range now and all three began opening fire with their main turrets. The two SUVs opened fire back at the Striders the bullets knocking hard against the outer defenses of one Strider but doing little real damage.

"The Hoppers aren't doing the trick," Julian yelled grabbing the radio, "Did anybody bring a rocket launcher?"

"We got a laser-guided one," the second truck driver reported.

Julian deftly leapt from one truck to the other finding the rocket launcher in the back of the truck already loaded up with an RPG round. Typically the Resistance used rocket launchers which featured a laser guidance system but to Julian's dismay this unit had no guidance systems. One of the Striders was charging his Pulse Canon to deliver a devastating blow. Julian had to aim quickly, he shouldered the RPG aimed and fired. The Strider's pulse canon fired as well slicing through the RPG round and slamming into the SUV directly in front of Julian sending the assassin flying as the shockwave hit and nearly knocking the truck off the road. The assassin reloaded the RPG and crawled into the cockpit of the truck.

"How far are we from Clear Water?" The assassin asked the driver.

"More than a hundred miles still."

"Get on the radio and tell them we're in trouble near, dammit where are we?"

As the words left the assassin's lips the truck screamed past a sign reading Coldwind Kansas. The driver offered Julian a nod as he picked up the radio and the assassin crawled back toward the back of the truck. Julian dislodged more Hopper mines before taking aim at another Strider. This time the giant spider felt the full force of a rocket slamming into it, the force of the explosion knocking one Strider into another as the third began to open fire. Julian found another RPG round and narrowly avoided being hit by the Strider's rather erratic plasma bolts to get his rocket launcher locked and loaded. Another rocket left, this one striking one Strider in the legs severing the connection between torso and limb and sending it toppling to the pavement. A cheer went up over the radio as Julian searched for more ammunition.

"We're out of RPG rounds!" Julian protested.

"Clear Water knows of our trouble."

"Shit," Julian said staring back at two Striders who were now stationary and charging their pulse cannons, "Get out!"

The spry assassin leapt from the truck hitting the ground in a roll, it was painful but he came out of it and broke for cover. The Strider's fired then two beams of blue brightly igniting. Julian watched the truck as it basically disintegrated, the detonation of the Hoppers combined with the Strider pulse fire unmaking the truck in an instant. Julian had no time to lament the death of his driver or the loss of his mines as the Striders were closing fast. He made his way into the long grass rushing as fast as he could to keep up with the speeding convoy. Even at full sprint though the Striders had overtaken him and without any explosives he felt entirely helpless to stop them from destroying the others.

Julian did notice, however, the movement of something he was sure he could intercept. The Hunter moved quickly along the roadside clearly aware of the assassin's presence but unaware that it had been spotted. Hunter's were, like all Combine machines and even most soldiers, programmed to believe that human beings weren't the brightest adversaries and were perceptually weak. The sharp senses of the assassin, however, were not entered into the calculations or thought processes of the Hunter synth.

Julian lifted his assault rifle as the Hunter barreled toward him. The assassin fired damaging both eyes of the Hunter and rolling out of harm's way as its momentum carried it forward into the field. The assassin spun impossibly fast and before the Hunter could even fire the XM8 was opening up on it. Julian unloaded on his synthetic enemy dodging this way and that in the open field as the Hunter fired its Flechette rounds. Julian knew that being hit by even one of the rounds could do untold damage for not only did they cut into and stick in flesh but each round exploded decimating flesh with plasma and shrapnel.

The Hunter growled in protest as round after round hit it. Finally the assassin ran out of bullets and the Hunter, believing its enemy out of tricks, dashed toward him with abandon. The Hunter learned its lesson then as the assassin leapt into the air and soared over the seven foot tall creature reloading as he did. Julian landed behind the creature and managed to stab it with his hidden blade causing a black blood-like substance to ooze from the Hunter's torso. The Hunter spun on him knocking the assassin aside with one of its three limbs and firing off a barrage in Julian's direction. But the assassin had not taken the blow head on, he'd already been leaping away as he was hit and he turned the momentum of the blow into several graceful flips dodging the Hunter's Flechette rounds and barely getting to safety before they detonated. The Hunter had anticipated this, had begun to understand its enemy, and rammed into the assassin sending him to the dirt hard.

Julian had, unbeknownst to the Hunter, reloaded his weapon earlier and the XM8 rounds cut into the Hunter's synthetic flesh but more importantly into its eyes. Without optic sensors the Hunter was blind to its surroundings and Julian ran in with unrelenting speed and brutality stabbing at the Hunter again and again and again with his hidden blade. It was slow going but the blinding speed of the Hunter was slowing far faster than Julian's ability to quick-jab and then vanish into the long grass. Even if the Hunter had been able to see it hardly would have been able to halt the onslaught of the assassin. Eventually the Hunter lie still, its mechanical and organic parts damaged beyond repair.

The assassin slumped to the ground for a moment with catch his breath and place a fresh magazine in his weapon his weapon. He had little time to rest though with the convoy likely miles ahead of him. He put aside his fatigue and rushed down the road.

"Where did the signal come from?" Desmond asked rushing into the war-room.

"We believe it came from Coldwind Kansas," a female soldier answered.

"We haven't had any contact since," Shephard explained, "We're getting together a troop of two hundred and fifty men."

"Hell of a distance to cover sir if what you're hoping for is a rescue," the female soldier said

"We can't just leave them to die Lieutenant," Shephard scolded.

"My son is with them dammit," Desmond said picking up a gun and heading toward the door, "no one is getting left."

Julian watched as the Strider's moved off down the roadside as though suddenly uninteresting in the flaming remains of the convoy's remaining truck. The assassin had arrived after the apparent battle had ended in tragedy. Julian watched the Strider's for a while staying far back enough not to be spotted as they made their way along the winding road. He followed their movements sure that they would lead him to a base of some sort, to a host of soldiers he could wreak his vengeance upon. His instincts proved correct but to Julian's horror the base he'd suspected as a small Combine outpost was actually a massive complex of sinister buildings along the shore of Coldwind Lake.

The assassin slumped away, his shoulders hung low. This was exactly the reason he preferred to work alone. The Combine had killed so many of his friends and fellow soldiers and no matter how hard he fought he found himself too often powerless to stop them. For all his strength and skill he was only a man, frail and weak in comparison to the Combine. This massive facility beside the lake could have housed more than ten thousand soldiers, the outside was swarming with Overwatch and the assassin counted at least half a dozen Striders walking the perimeter. There was no hope for revenge here, just instant annihilation.

Julian ambled back down the road finding his way inexorably to the still smoldering ruins of the convoy. His heart dared to hope for a moment for nowhere amidst the wreckage were the bodies of his compatriots. The assassin sprung to life searching the area of signs of their escape. He found evidence of them nearby, noting several stalks of grass broken down recently. Julian followed the faint signs, a footprint here, a hair there, until he came to an abandoned farmhouse. The red paint that once covered the structure had been worn off by the Kansas wind and the missing roof told of a rather rough Tornado season. Still, for twenty plus years of disrepair it was in okay shape.

The assassin's face lit up when his friend Giovanni appeared at the doorway wielding a shotgun in his direction. Julian put his hands up and offered his friend a warm smile.

"You got me," he laughed.

"Come inside," Giovanni said trying hard to mask his relief at seeing his friend alive.

Two others were inside as well, one a soldier who went by the nickname Sparks, the other was Theodore, Giovanni's friend, who had been struck by a Strider bolt in the arm and suffered a great deal of blood loss. Still, seeing some of them alive brought hope to the assassin, as did the knowledge that his Father knew their location. Julian had to wonder, though, whether the fighting force his Father would arrive with would be enough to take down the base he'd seen on the lakefront and whether they would arrive in time to save Theodore from his wounds.

"Where were you my friend?" Giovanni asked as Julian dressed Theodore's wound to the best of his ability.

"I killed the Hunter, then I followed those Strider's back to their base," Julian explained, "It's close by, right on Coldwind Lake, big too. If I didn't know any better I'd say it's a factory."

"A factory for what?"

"Probably for building synths and the like," Julian said, "I just hope the arrival of my Father doesn't stir the sleeping giant or we're going to be up to our asses in Combine."

"I should have volunteered for the Com-Station assault," Sparks complained rubbing his head and wearing a worried expression.

"Speaking of which," Giovanni said with his eyes lighting up, "I managed to rescue something other than Theodore."

"Giovanni you shouldn't have," Julian said with a grin on his face checking over the HEV suit for damage, "Gordon fucking Freeman."


	4. Chapter 4: Assembly

Chapter Four: Assembly

Shephard held his weapon close as he moved his way through the trees that had come to dominate the Kansas country-side. The Combine had little use for lumber being predominantly interesting in stripping Earth of its metals and altering its atmosphere. The middle-aged soldier's feet ached; it'd been too long since he'd been out of the hive. He knew, though, that his mission was of utmost importance and the leader of the Resistance and his son were in danger.

Initially Clear Water base had viewed the mission to Coldwind as nothing more than a rescue operation for a few injured Resistance members. Desmond had round up no more than two hundred fifty men and women with an impressive convoy of armored vehicles. Several hours ago however they had received a garbled encrypted message and deciphered it. Desmond and his group were walking into a trap - the Combine had a factory on the lake shore. The message had come from Julian. His HEV suit was able to send encrypted messages on a frequency the Combine had little inkling to use or even monitor.

According to Julian the facility was attached to two Combine Overwatch barracks of good size. If the fact that the facility likely housed a soldier count in the thousands wasn't enough to rattle Colonel Adrian Shephard the nature of the factory certainly did. It was a synthetic factory, manufacturing Hunters, Striders and possibly even Combine gunships.

Shephard had gathered together nearly ever soldier in Clear Water, leaving behind less than a thousand troops to defend the base and marching the nearly three thousand others toward Coldwind. It would take them hours proceeding on foot, deprived of the speed that Desmond and his smaller force possessed because of their vehicles. Only two dozen vehicles had remained and Adrian wanted them used to haul supplies to the outskirts of Coldwind in preparation for the inevitable showdown. The Colonel worried that they would not arrive in time to stop the slaughter, that Desmond and the others might be dead before they arrived. Dead, or in the hands of the Combine Empire, though Shephard wasn't sure which outcome was worse.

Julian sat in the darkness listening to the sounds all around him. The predawn world was coming to life, insects and animals cried out in the faint glow of the soon to be risen sun. The assassin moved silently toward the upper floor of the farmhouse. The upper floor was in such disrepair that only the faint footsteps of the assassin could have traversed it in safety. Soon enough he was out on what was left of the room, a few beams and boards that could scarcely hold his weight. Julian surveyed the area with his binoculars noting nothing on the horizon save endless fields of overgrowth and the occasional farmhouse or silo breaking the monotony.

The assassin silently slipped back to the ground floor and headed out into the fields. There he found the evidence of the Combine patrol that had neared the farmhouse the night before. The silence of his companions had saved him though with a smile the assassin recalled placing his hand over Giovanni's mouth to stop the man from snoring. The footprints he found out in the fields showed that the patrol had indeed been Overwatch numbering at least twenty-five with a small fraction of those being Elite soldiers.

Julian let out a yawn feeling almost at ease with the world despite their current predicament. He wondered if he might rouse his companions, particularly Theodore who had only slept through the night because Julian had offered him some morphine from the HEV suit's medical system. Something caught the assassin's attention then, movement in a tree at some distance away. Most would have assumed the movement was caused by a bird or perhaps even a squirrel but the senses of the assassin were sharper than most. Julian pulled out his binoculars confirming his suspicions as he watched someone drop from the tree and rush off across the field.

Julian took off then, moving from entirely still to break neck pace in less than a second. His legs pumped as quick as could be but the person ahead of him seemed to remain a speck in the distance, a blur passing through the tall grass. His target seemed impossibly fast but despite this the assassin never lost line of sight. Soon his quarry seemed to be losing passion for the chase and the assassin began gaining ground slowly but surely. The stranger dashed into a more heavily forested area dancing and dodging between trees but the assassin was close behind now and was equally agile in his movements. Then in happened, the rope snapped tight around his leg and Julian flew into the air. Hanging upside down the assassin felt truly humiliated.

Julian watched as two brilliant blue eyes peaked out at him from behind a nearby tree. He watched as the woman stepped out from her hiding spot and approached him with ample caution and a knife in hand. She was lovely though the fact didn't matter to Julian at the moment.

"Would you mind cutting me down?" Julian asked afraid that she might attempt to kill him if he tried to cut the rope himself.

"You don't look like Combine," the woman said, her voice somewhat stilted and her pale but strangely alluring face wearing confusion.

"I'm not Combine, I'm Resistance," Julian explained, "Now please cut me down Miss."

Julian noted the way her face contorted as though her mind was overwhelmed by the situation. He noted that her legs had been modified somehow, that robotic springs had been added to allow for quicker steps and higher jumps. Still, she was clearly human and despite her seemingly cyborg like features there was warmth about her and a fire in her eyes.

"You won't kill me?" She asked nervously approaching. The assassin shook his head and felt the ground underneath him once more.

"Who the hell are you?" Julian asked noting the timid fear in the woman's eyes and also, for the first time, realizing how young she seemed. Could this young woman have been born AFTER the Combine had come? The assassin shook the possibility from his mind.

"Subject," she said her face once again contorting, "subject name here."

"Subject name here?" the assassin echoed with a confused stare.

"Her name is Allison," a voice answered. Julian spun to see a man with graying hair and strapped down with more weapons than the assassin had ever seen one man carry step out of the forest, "Allison Rogue, though she doesn't remember that."

"She's young, damn young," Julian noted.

"She's not a day over nineteen," the man agreed.

"How can that be?" The assassins stammered with incredulity, "That's impossible."

"It's impossible on Earth," the man corrected bidding the assassin follow him, "Because of the Suppression Field no one can reproduce down here but up there, in space, it's a different story friend."

"I wasn't aware we had anyone in space before they arrived, or that reproduction was even possible up there."

"It's a long story," the man admitted, "My name's Michael by the way, Michael Cameron."

"Julian, "the assassin said shaking the man's hand, "Julian Miles."

Michael led Julian a bit deeper into the forest to a small rundown group of shacks apparently constructed by the man and serving as his residence. Amongst the supplies he had were radio equipment and even a working television and collection of video discs. The assassin realized then that this man had been here for a very long time, perhaps even since day one of Combine rule. Michael bid the assassin to sit and offered Julian a bowl of stew that had been boiling over an open flame.

"You seem to be doing alright for yourself," Julian noted with a sip of the stew, "Especially with the Combine so close by."

"Bastards have been a thorn in my side since the Factory went up," Michael assured him, "But I've been a thorn in theirs as well."

"And they haven't been able to kill you?" Julian asked with eyebrows raised.

"I use a combination of traps, stealth and heavy weaponry," Michael explained, "Different techniques for different situations. Mostly we just lay low moving from place to place."

"She's been with you for a while?" the assassin asked, staring over at the mysterious girl who seemed deep in thought at the time.

"I rescued her a few months ago," Michael said his gaze distant as though remembering, "After what those Combine bastards did to her I brought her out that Hell. Unfortunately her mind never fully recovered."

"What did they have her doing?" The assassin asked, wondering if he shouldn't get back to the farmhouse.

"Some kind of experimental shit," Michael replied with a growl, "She was in some kind of machine, a memory machine if I could guess. It seriously fucked up her mind, her memory comes and goes now, half the time she can't even remember her name. Other times she gives me vivid, chilling details of the shit they had her do."

"And her birth?"

"As far as I can tell the Combine needed test subjects," Michael explained, "They wanted to be able to control the genetic make-up of the people so they take genes from certain people only, like some chosen race Nazi bullshit. They're up there assembling people in labs."

"You got into the factory to save her though?" Julian asked thinking the space station a dead end for now.

"There's a secret entrance in a Silo not far from here," Michael explained.

"I need to get in there," the assassin said, his fists suddenly clenching.

"Its no good now kid, the Combine know I used it, bastards probably have a pretty good defense on it now."

"I don't care, I need to get in there," Julian said standing, "My Father is coming, he and his men will be no match for that facility but if I get in, if I fight it from the inside and provide a distraction-"

"No!" Allison exclaimed rushing over to Julian and falling to the ground before him, "You don't know the Hell that goes on in there."

"That's one of the reasons I need to get in," Julian said, "Now show me that Silo."

Desmond knew they were in trouble the moment they arrived. The fragments of the convoy were strewn everywhere and he felt his heart sinking as the remains of each vehicle was accounted for. Still, with no bodies in sight, there was room for hope. Desmond had received a call on the radio from Adrian; the panicked Colonel had been just in time with his warning about the facility on the lakefront. Desmond had directed most of his men to stay back, their vehicles concealed in wooded areas some miles back while he and a few scouts scoured the area for his son. Despite the man's sharp senses he could not find any evidence of survivors in the area though a few footprints and the body of a Hunter synth painted a picture for him of the odds Julian had faced. A wave of pride flooded the assassin as he left the field. Taking down a Hunter Synth without so much as an RPG or grenade launcher was no easy task and even half a dozen Resistance members would have found one Hunter a formidable opponent.

The sun was rising in the Eastern sky as the first patrol came lumbering out of the Factory. Desmond watched from a distance as the gates on the Western edge of the facility split open and three Striders accompanied by a Hunter and nearly fifty Combine soldiers poured from the gate and began their sweep of the surrounding area. The facility itself was huge, made up of three main buildings. The largest structure was a steel spire with a massive rectangular building at the base of it. It was unlike any manufacturing building Desmond had ever laid eyes on, he was positive that such a structure could only be powered by a Combine Energy Core, typically only present in the sinister Citadels. The other two buildings were gargantuan barracks that could have housed five thousand soldiers each.

Desmond slipped from the tree and made his escape hastily not wanting to be near the place as the patrol spread out. The prognosis was far from positive. Desmond decided to wait, hoping that the arrival of Adrian's force would even the odds and allow an assault on the facility. A facility he was now suspecting had taken his son prisoner.

"But Julian, your Father's troop has been spotted no more than a mile from here," Giovanni complained watching the disobedient assassin donning the HEV suit.

"It doesn't matter," Julian said, "He won't stand a chance if I don't get in there. Even if Adrian managed to contact him Clear Water doesn't have a force sufficient for a full assault of this place. I have to give them a fighting chance and besides, I won't to know what these fuckers are up to."

"You think there's more to this than just a synth factory?" Giovanni reasoned and the look in Julian's eyes told him he was right, "Let me come with you."

"I need you to meet up with my Father," Julian said putting a hand on his friend's soldier, "I need you to tell him I'm alright."

"I understand," Giovanni said finally admitting defeat to the indomitable will of his young friend, "Be safe."

"When is this world ever safe for us?" Julian asked with a laugh.

The assassin made his way back to Michael and Allison as quickly as his feet could carry him. The woodsman had prepared an assortment of weapons and set them out. Some were standard issue combine fair but one stood out as entirely unique amongst the bunch. It appeared almost as a glove but it had tubes swirling with light connecting it to a power source built into a backpack. The assassin threw the pack over his shoulders and noted how much it weighed him down immediately. The HEV suit already added extra weight but not enough to slow the assassin down all that considerably but with the pack on Julian wondered if he would even be able to sprint with any acceptable speed or duration.

"It's a bit heavy isn't it" The assassin asked.

"It's worth it," Michael assured him, "I stole it from Aperture Science."

"Aperture Science?"

"I used to work for them. They were an experimental organization, top secret black projects mostly. That right there is a Dark Energy Beam Weapon, when you squeeze the trigger in the glove of the hand three times in rapid succession it fires off a powerful burst of Dark Energy. Go ahead and try it out on that patch of grass over there."

Julian aimed his hand at the grass and squeezed the trigger three times in quick succession opening up his palm afterwards to allow for the escape of energy. The tubing flashed brightly and Julian felt the energy rushing through the device and finally bursting from a crystal on the palm of the glove. The jolt caused Julian's entire body to recoil greatly despite the fact he'd attempted to dig down and compensate for any recoil. A burst of Dark energy covered in tendrils of light left the palm of the glove, it struck the grass igniting it and then disintegrating it entirely. Julian stood flabbergasted at the sight for no remains of the grass had been left behind.

"It works on the same principle as the AR2's Dark Energy Grenade," Michael explained, "Packs a hell of a punch. Far as I can tell this battery pack will last forever."

"Forever?" Julian asked.

"Well, you know, indefinitely."

"You have anything else from Aperture Science I could use?"

"Not with me," Michael admitted, "But I have footage in my collection of something I've been meaning to get my hands on. It's called the Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device."

"Show me."

Julian knew he was pressed on time but the possibility of a device existing that could open and shut a portal was too intriguing to pass up on. He watched the footage of a test subject holding the device. The time mark toward the bottom of the screen marked the date of the test as 2011, some four years before the arrival of the Combine. Julian felt a wave of disappointment when he realized the device would be unusable as a method of closing Combine portals. Still, the ability to open two connected interdimensional gateways and pass from one to the other so easily was undoubtedly a useful advantage.

"Where exactly can I find me one of those?" Julian asked when Michael stopped the clip.

"Can't," Michael said, "Well that is to say I don't remember where the facility even is… I think it was in Nevada, but I'm not sure."

"Fair enough," Julian admitted, "We'll talk more about it when I get back."

"Be careful," Allison said suddenly, "The other subjects may not be themselves. They might try to harm you."

"I'm used to people trying to harm me," Julian admitted, finding himself strangely attracted to her. He put such thoughts from his mind and stored his weapons. He had two silenced USP pistols, his XM-8 with four magazines that Michael had provided and a knife .As always he also carried his trusty crowbar. As he made his way across the fields toward the distant Silo that was his destination he felt like an absolute tank. The entire world typically seemed stacked against him but now, armored and locked and loaded, the assassin felt an air of invincibility. He knew that such feelings of overconfidence were dangerous and deceptive but he was bolstered by the righteousness of his cause. Even if he died he would do so helping his Father, helping bring down the Combine. Death for such a cause was to be welcomed, not feared.

Adrian and his mass of troops were making good time across the Kansas countryside. Their pace was considerably quick. Already their convoy of munitions and supplies had rendezvoused with Desmond's group a few miles outside of Coldwind. Nearly three thousand men and women moved behind him making their way as quick as they could toward Coldwind. Still it was more than a hundred miles to their destination from Clear Water base, even moving as quickly as they could it would likely take them upwards of twenty hours to traverse the distance.

Already the sun was growing lower in the sky; it was a few hours past noon Adrian knew. They'd marched the entire night only stopping for a two hour rest period just before the sun had risen. Still there were quite a few miles ahead of them and the morale of the group wasn't done any favors by knowing that after the march was coming combat against a force larger than their own. None of the soldiers knew the true dimensions of the force they would come up against but they all understood such a mobilization wouldn't have happened if the force were not massive.

Despite the hopelessness of their situation many still had hope in their hearts. Each and every soldier had a great deal of respect for Shephard and Desmond. Desmond had become a legend amongst the Resistance early on. He had fought the Combine and put up a fight unparalleled by any other would-be hero of the brave new dystopia. After the death of Lucy, his lover, Desmond had vowed to bring down the Combine, hard and had led many out of their clutches. The Resistance had come to call him Desmond "Moses" Miles, a voice leading the people out of slavery. Now each and every soldier had a chance to repay the kindness and brotherhood that Desmond had taught them could not be extinguished. Even those who thought their odds of survival dim were more than willing to lay their lives down for the likes of Desmond Miles.

Julian watched the APC circling the Silo, the soldiers within apparently joy riding around and around. It was clear that this wasn't normal behavior. These Combine were apparently bored. Julian offered a smile indiscernible to any observer but no less present on his face. He leapt into action diving toward the Silo. It didn't take long for the soldiers within the personnel carrier to realize they had company but in the time it took them to ready themselves for a fight the assassin had slipped beneath the APC and placed a grenade under it. The explosion rocked the armored vehicle burrowing a hole in the bottom, the only true weak spot in the armor and sending the soldiers scrambling out of it. They were met by the assassin's new energy weapon. Three bursts left the palm of his glove and three Combine soldiers vanished before his eyes into oblivion.

The assassin knew this wasn't the extent of the Silo's defenses as a sniper bullet narrowly missed his head and sent him scrambling for cover. Hidden behind the APC the assassin felt safe enough for the moment until he heard the radio-chatter from within the Silo, there were others. Julian had little time to think, he slipped beneath the APC climbing into it via the hole his grenade had made and mounting the turret atop it. The assassin opened fire on the sniper first hearing the soldier cry out in pain as the bullets penetrated the Silo. Julian then turned the turret on the lower levels of the structure riddling it with holes until every round of the turret was used up and hearing at least four enemies cry out.

With a smirk of satisfaction the assassin slipped into the Silo. From above him the sound of an AR2 resounded and the assassin sprang into motion diving out of the way and lifting his gun to get off a few shots. The soldier was on a platform that had been set up above him a few stories below the level the sniper had been on. The walls of the Silo were hardly made for climbing but the Combine had set up a ladder to get from level to level. The assassin screeched across the expanse moving faster than the soldier's trigger finger could react. Even with leading his target the soldier struggled to get any rounds close to the assassin.

Julian sprinted up the next ladder standing toe to toe with the soldier. The assassin leaned back and lifted his foot kicking the gun from the soldiers hand then extending his foot to strike the soldier's face. The assassin let himself bend back far enough to touch the floor then pushed off the floor propelling his initially weak kick now strong enough to knock the soldier down. The assassin lifted his silenced pistol and fire three shots in succession into the soldier's head.

Julian slipped down each of the ladders and soon found, disguised by a covering of hay, the hatch that would lead him down into the tunnels, and, if Michael had been telling the truth, into the factory. The assassin squeezed his glove three times allowing the powerful pulse of Dark Energy to smash through the door. With one last look around the stealthy assassin slipped into the tunnel beneath. The sun was less than an hour away from its disappearance and Julian knew his Father would likely move as darkness fell.

Desmond looked over the troops that Shephard had assembled. Each one of them was brave and ready to fight. There was a certain pride in his heart, much like that he had felt for his son; a son he now knew was alive. Desmond knew that the odds were stacked against them but that was how it always was, in this dark time there could be no expectation to outnumber your opponent. The hope in his heart came not from knowing that he was stronger or smarter than his opponent but from knowing that righteousness was on their side. Each and every human being carried an indomitable spirit that filled them with flames of rebellion fueled by the injustice and evil of the Combine occupation.

Their plan was simple, to attack when the next patrol was returning. As the Striders and soldiers in the patrol entered the Southern part of the complex they would use that opening to enter and show no mercy to their enemies. Once inside they would need to capture the Dark Energy Core, for control of it would allow them a bartering chip with which to negotiate with the Combine. Victory, direct and crushing victory, could not be won here but if they gained control of the Core they could control the entire facility.

They had one advantage here that the Combine would not see coming. Desmond had one weapon up his sleeve that could bring the Combine to its knees. He stared at it with hatred in his eyes knowing the risk that came with using it. Its shimmering golden surface seemed to call to him in a futile attempt to ease his enmity toward it. He needed it this time though. If Julian was to survive, if the Resistance was to survive, if the Combine Factory was to fall into their hands, he would need it.

The assassin silently slipped down the hall passing by room after room of supplies and storage. There was very little activity down here and the dull blue lighting meant there were enough shadows for the assassin to use to his advantage. When Julian did come up against a patrolling soldier who managed to stop him he quickly put an end to them storing their bodies in any of the endless rooms on each side of the tunnel.

Soon enough though the stiflingly hot air became cool and the assassin detected a strange almost sterile smell wafting through the air. The screams came next, quiet and soft at first but with growing intensity. Each step he took brought him closer to the nightmarish yowls, almost inhuman, that echoed down the hall. The assassin was so bewildered by the voices that he did not notice the soldier rushing toward him with stun-baton drawn.

Julian seemed a statue to the soldier at least until he came close enough to snap the assassin from his trance. Julian grabbed the soldier's wrist and disarmed him while driving a knee into his chest and sending him to the ground. The guard struggled to gain his breath and brandish his pistol but he found the knife of the assassin lodged in his throat, muffling his final scream, before he could.

Even before the light had left the soldier's eyes the assassin was racing down the tunnel toward the horrid screams. Images of Allison flashed before his eyes, haunted visions of her torture at the hands of the combine. Thoughts of multitudes of manufactured humans made for the Combine's on sick twisted purposes. The only children in all the world, the key to the future of humanity, and the Combine had them. Julian felt rage burning, the infernal fire of righteous hatred. He barreled into the next section of tunnel knocking aside Combine soldiers and felling others with burst after burst of Dark Energy illuminating the dimly lit tunnel. The Combine swarmed around him but he didn't care. The secret was here, he knew it was. It was as if the words were being whispered into his ears by unseen provocateur.

His heart pumped over time as he neared the source of the screaming voices. With a powerful burst of rage he cut down the Combine soldiers that rose up to stop him driving a knife straight into the skull of an Elite and spinning to snap the neck of the next Overwatch soldier to attempt to impede him. Julian burst into the room then, his eyes flooding with tears as he saw them.

Strapped down, eyes held open by unnatural machines. Each of them was staring blankly up into the control panel. Each of them was strapped into the device of their own torture. Julian gasped for air not understanding what his eyes were seeing. There must have been hundreds of them, the entire room, massive as it was and bathed in an unholy ever pervasive white light, was filled with them. Each subject cried out as their minds were invaded, as they were forced to live out their genetic memories again and again and again. Doctor Young's work had been stolen. The Combine had built an Animus. Not just one, hundreds.

Julian knew that they were coming at him from all directions now but he did not care. He stood stoic, his face that of stone and his heart welled with a rage he had not felt in all his life. He would make them pay.

"I will kill you all!"

In a fit of berserker rage the assassin lifted his palm and blasted away three oncoming soldiers. Without thinking the assassin spun and blasted away another. Then another, then another. Still they came on, firing bullets now apparently uncaring if they injured their own patients. The assassin knew he had to lead them away though he lamented leaving his fellow human beings so helpless and in such agony. With blind rage in his heart he rushed back into the tunnel with the Combine hot on his trail. He wanted them to follow. He wanted blood.


	5. Chapter 5: Dark Knowledge

Chapter Five: Dark Knowledge

The crowd had gathered around him now rushing from every portal and orifice. From every room they came with weapons in hand and darkness in mind firing off round after round. The assassin never stopped moving. His motions were fluid. His actions were instinctual. There was no thought in his mind. His entire soul had become the dwelling place of an unholy rage, a passionate plea to spill blood rushed through his entire being as he strode forward down the hall. His blade was in one hand seeking vengeance, cutting and striking and always doubling back as he spun to cut down those that dare follow. When his knife could not reach them his left palm became a burning light, illuminated shockwaves of Dark Energy chasing down his enemies to decimate them. Blood sprayed the hallway as entire chest cavities were disintegrated by the Dark Energy gun Michael had given him.

Julian considered his hand a tool of judgment with which to doll out righteous punishment for the horrors he knew these men had done. There was no sympathy in his eyes and even less than that in his heart. Though there was grace in his movements they were without conscious decision for his body was now fully under the control of his thirst for revenge. Bullets flew every which way but those that hit him impacted against the HEV suit seemingly without incident. If there was any pain from the kinetic force of their impact Julian did not feel it, numbed by rage as he now was. Each bullet that did hit his armored exterior was repaid by a powerful burst from the Dark Energy weapon. One Combine soldier saw the burst coming and tried to duck only to have the top of his head vanish and blood and brain come spilling onto the floor.

The hallway was clear now and more than two dozen enemies lie dead. Julian noted the pain in his leg and saw that a bullet graze had indeed pierced the suit and carved a path into his left shin. Steeling himself against the pain he limped back toward the Animus room. His rage had been sated, his bloodlust quenched and the noblest cause his troubled mind could conjure was to find a way to release the Combine's test subjects. He could not allow them to suffer such fates.

As he raced toward the Animus room he noted the blaring sound of the alarm for the first time. In his rage so much had escaped perception. Already Combine soldiers poured into the hallway chasing after him. He rushed toward them now, for they blocked his path, and leapt over their line of fire to drive his knife into the leading soldier's head and topple the man over. Julian rolled and came to rest behind the soldiers but before they could turn to fire he had his Dark Energy weapon pumped and ready to fire. He hesitated to open it for just a moment waiting for them to turn, waiting for them to see and perceive their own doom. He released the burst now and found that keeping his hand closed had amplified it, the pulse encompassed almost the whole hall way and cut the soldiers to pieces leaving parts of them lying on the floor and other parts missing from time and space entirely.

Julian bolted into the Animus room once more knowing more soldiers would be coming. He rushed forward down each row of suffering souls with hate welling in his heart once more. He noted that each was connected to the wall via some kind of power cord clearly connecting each Animus to the power supply. Julian took out his knife and sliced at the thick cord but it was no use, it was made of some kind of metallic substance. The assassin had to think quick as his ears alerted him to soldiers entering from the hall and from across the great expanse of the room soldiers rushing from an elevator there. He took his XM-8 from its HEV storage compartment and fired wildly at the power-cord watching with great pleasure as sparks flew from it and the lights on that Animus flickered and died. With bullets buzzing dangerously close by the assassin grabbed the Animus console and pulled it from atop the comatose victim who'd been strapped into it, a young man no older than he was.

"Fucking Combine bastards!"

The assassin spun now to face his attackers leveling a powerful blast of dark energy at an oncoming group and striking one head on in the chest while a tendril of energy clipped another in the throat. The sound of the first soldier's horrified screams distorted through the Combine vocoder made Julian cringe. Despite his rage he knew his opponents were still human, despite the Combine having brainwashed them and altered their bodies. The other soldiers could not cry out, for his throat no longer existed; his head and body fell to the ground lifelessly.

Julian was moving again dashing for the elevator at the end of the room. He turned to face his attackers firing off round after round with the XM-8 and when his magazine dried up he leapt atop an Animus and fired off Dark Energy in the direction of his enemies. Many fell dead but their bullets became accurate as they drew nearer and the assassin realized how hopeless his situation had become as another group of soldiers entered from the elevator. He took cover behind an Animus feeling almost ashamed using these poor tortured individuals as cover.

Dashing from Animus to Animus the assassin moved closer to his prey flanking around one set of soldiers and equipping his silenced pistol. While prone on the ground he got off his first shots bullets barreling into the shins of two shoulders sending them to the ground. The assassin stood now and launched a Dark Energy pulse at the two soldiers who were still standing taking them down while firing off several more shots at the soldiers he'd crippled earlier. He had to move quickly as the soldiers from the other side of the room were pressing on him now. Julian rushed to the elevator and hit the button repeatedly turning to face his attackers and dodging their bullets as best he could.

Still the assassin was being hit and he wasn't sure how much longer the HEV suit would allow him to cheat death. He fired away another Dark Energy pulse killing two of the approaching soldiers. There were at least ten more though and each of them now had line of sight. The elevator door opened behind him and in slipped the assassin as a wave of relief flooded over him he hit the button for the bottom most floor and attempted to steel himself against fatigue.

The sun had just slipped beneath the horizon when the troops began to move. Desmond was amongst them. Many of his top advisors and soldiers had advised him to stay behind, to abstain from battle. He was, after all, in his fifties now and the post Combine world didn't have the same medical advances as the world of mankind had once boasted. Desmond would have no part of it and had convinced them his part in the battle was important. His presence offered morale to his troops. The bravery of this man had been attested to many times in his adult life and even though none expected him to go into battle at his age all were bolstered by him being beside them.

The patrol lumbered toward the gate and the siren sounded as it split open allowing the returning Striders and soldiers to enter. Three thousand resistance soldiers rushed forward then, the call went up to charge and each lifted a warcry up. An entire group of soldiers fired off their rockets in the direction of the Striders before rushing forward with the rest to get within the breach. The three Striders had sustained damage and they toppled and fell. At the same moment the Resistance forces rushed into through the gate using the fallen husks of the Striders as cover from mounted turrets and the already scrambling crowd of Combine soldiers.

The gate behind them slammed shut before every soldier could enter leaving nearly one thousand of the Resistance force on the wrong side of the gate. There could be no retreat now. Desmond swallowed his fear and strode forward. His ranks advanced with Pulse Rifle wielding soldiers leading the way and just behind them a group armed with grenade launchers serving to clear out the turret nests mounted all along the inner perimeter of the complex. Those in front had far better body armor but despite this the Combine pulse rifle rounds did their nasty work tearing off limbs and spilling blood all around Desmond. The elder assassin was not afraid. This was the kind of battle that had defined his existence, the kind of fight that he thrived on.

Striding forward Desmond lifted a glowing golden orb and with it lifted every Combine soldier from their turret. Wreathed in resplendent golden flame each soldier levitated nervously before Desmond tore away the sphere and sent each soldier hurdling toward the ground face first. Necks snapped and bodies crunched as they struck the unforgiving Earth and all stood in awe for a moment before advancing.

The turrets were the least of their worries. Combine were pouring in from everywhere now, by the hundreds. Desmond returned the Piece of Eden to its protective pouch and turned to see Adrian Shephard with mouth agape.

"We have a battle to win Colonel," Desmond reminded him.

The elevator door opened and Julian stepped into the room. Before him was a catwalk elevated above what appeared an almost bottomless cavern. The walls were made of some special metal and every so often an arc of energy spanned the distance between both walls beneath the transparent plastic from which the catwalk was constructed. It was clear that this room was somehow involved in the power system of the entire facility despite its non-central location. If Julian was correct he was actually still hundreds and hundreds of yards from even being within the perimeter fence, this place very well might have been beneath the water for all he knew.

The assassin proceeded with caution, checking every which way and lifting his assault rifle each time he came to a fork. Paths moved off down side passages and maintenance shafts every hundred feet or so. With his senses as alert as they could be he drifted down the corridor coming at last to a great door with a retinal scanner security system. Julian spit in disgust turning as his keen senses detected motion behind him. Combine soldiers had entered all the way back at the elevator some five hundred feet away. Another shape caught his attention, one moving with a speed and quickness that precluded a great deal of skill. Indeed the assassin, for a moment, thought that it might have been his Father though that thought made little sense and was thrown out immediately.

Instead of his Father Julian now found himself standing face to face with a woman. She was dressed from head to toe in a formfitting Combine uniform of some kind though it was obviously different from those given to typical Overwatch soldiers. Her eyes contained a magnificent cold. They were eerily devoid of color almost seeming gray-white. She was young though, certainly younger than the assassin was but her movements, the speed with each even the simplest gestures were made, the rapidity of her eyes as they studied him, told him she was not to be trifled with.

"Do you know how to get into the room behind me?"

"Yes, as do you," the woman replied, her cold tone betraying nothing of her sincerity or lack there of.

"You're Combine aren't you?" Julian asked.

"Perhaps you are not as sharp as our intelligence reports have stated. Do you truly need to ask a question like that?"

"So why haven't you killed me yet?"

"You are an assassin aren't you?"

Julian did not answer but despite his attempts to stay calm and entirely under control his facial expression did answer. She knew now that he was an assassin. Julian had to spring into action, he attempted to lift his palm squeezing the first two times to prime the Dark Energy emitter as he did but before he could fire the woman had sprung to movement. In what seemed, even for the trained assassin, as the blink of an eye the woman as beside him with a sharp blade to his throat.

"I do not want to kill you assassin," she stated coldly, "but I am authorized to do so."

"So you're just an automaton then, a fucking zombie who bows to the whim of the Combine."

"I assure you, assassin," she said, this time her voice seemed to have poison seething in it though it still remained cold and devoid of passion, "That all life in this Universe and those beyond shall one day bow to the Combine or shall face extinction."

She eased the blade from his throat with a wicked grin and slipped her sword back into the sheath at her side. It was a katana, he noted, not exactly the ideal blade for dueling, made more for cutting down one's opponent before the poor sap knew what was happening. Four Elite Overwatch soldiers surrounded him now and though the urge was present to attempt escape Julian had a feeling this particular fight was one he wouldn't be able to come out of unscathed. With a sigh of defeat the young assassin was led down one of the many side-corridors extending from the catwalk and brought into a bright room. The light was piercing and all pervasive and the eyes of the assassin typically adapted for night-fighting made the illumination all the more painful to deal with.

Several scientists were inside most working feverishly at Combine computer terminals. Julian recognized a handful of the images on each monitor. DNA and other aspects of human genetics seemed to be the theme and it didn't take the assassin long to put two and two together.

"You're still working on cloning." The assassin stated as fact.

"I am one of four new organisms," the woman explained, "I was born only two years ago. We've managed to push the metabolic rate of growth to adulthood to exponential limits and then program the genes in to slow it back down again after we hit prime."

"Super-soldiers."

"Assassins," the woman purred, "like yourself."

"At first we used them purely for the Animus and learned all we could about human weakness and the secrets of the assassin order. Now we are close to building a race of super-assassins, immortal and indestructible."

"Why are you telling me this?" Julian asked, "You know I will not help you willingly."

"Perhaps not in an Animus," she continued, "but in a way you will. You know that your species is doomed and cannot keep resisting. As long as your Resistance exists the Combine will not let your kind reproduce freely but if you surrender to the Combine the human race will have a chance to escape extinction."

"We will not bow," Julian said, feeling a rush of adrenaline and wondering if it came from his anger or from the HEV suit.

"Not yet," the cold tone of the Combine Assassin was amplified by the evil behind her eyes, "It is of little importance to our affairs of course Mister-"

"Freeman," this time Julian had prepared himself and his lie was flawless, "Gordon Freeman."

"Let us go Mister Freeman, and discuss a deal for your survival."

Desmond knew things were desperate on all fronts. His forces had taken the high ground and in many cases had manned the Combine turret positions to take out the Combine. Still they had been forced back quite a bit as both Barracks attached to the facility were now on full alert and thousands of soldiers poured from the facility swarming over the small number he had. The Piece of Eden had proved invaluable in disabling synths making it so Striders and Hunters could be brought down with ease. But these feats caused damage to Desmond, as he had learned so many years before. Those not strong enough for the device would find their energy drained and their bodies, sometimes, aged.

Another Strider emerged from the factory and Desmond watch as the remaining soldiers, some eight hundred men or so, began firing it with rockets and grenades. Another Strider lumbered first to replace this one and though the first was now listing badly both had begun to charge their Pulse Cannon.

Desmond leapt up and ran forward dodging Combine bullets and lifting the forbidden fruit of Eden to send one Strider smashing against the metallic wall of the factor and then into the other Strider. Crippled and barely able to move they made easy prey for the Resistance soldiers and Desmond felt a wave of satisfaction at having given them renewed hope. More Striders were on their way, as if an unlimited supply were contained in this massive factory, with its spire seeming to penetrate the Kansas sky.

The Elite Overwatch had moved in now, their white uniforms standing out in the darkness allowing the Resistance time to get the best of them by laying an ambush in the darkness. The Elite were smarter than the average Combine soldiers and their own night vision gave them equality on the battlefield. The Resistance maneuver failed and Desmond moved in with the Piece to clean up the mess and save the retreating soldiers. It was clear to him that even his miraculous weapon could not make a miracle for them that day. The odds against them were too great.

His force of three thousand had dwindled to eight hundred and though they'd killed the Combine two to one there was still very little hope left amongst them. Desmond looked to Adrian Shephard, the man who had stood beside him in battle for more than ten years, and shrugged as he stepped into the fray with the Piece of Eden lifted up above his head. A beam of golden light stretched from that device to nearly one hundred Combine soldiers sending each of them flying back as a concussive shockwave erupted from the device to hit each soldier marked by the light. Desmond collapsed to the battlefield and though bullets were still whizzing by him and his mind and body ached there was a smile upon his face. Grim odds were when the human spirit shined the brighter and despite the odds he had to believe that. Despair was a luxury he could not afford. With chest heaving he stood and lifted the device again.

Julian was busy trying to put the pieces together. This was the first time in his short career as a soldier that he could see the Combine strategy coming into view. Something was missing though. All the pieces seemed there and yet the puzzle made no sense. Human clones, genetically engineered assassins, an entire room of people plugged into Animi. Animi, the word was odd to his mind - never had he imagined having to put the word Animus into the plural. What little he knew of such devices had come from his Father. He knew that they were risky, that they could destroy the waking mind of those who used them and ancestor memory could corrupt current consciousness and memory.

An epiphany struck him then about Doctor Young who had apparently been the one to work on the Animus. When Julian had found the man he'd been imprisoned for at least a year though those at Black Mesa base had attempted to tell him otherwise. Doctor Young, he had assumed, had been an asset due to his knowledge of the Animus and his imprisonment was risky to the Resistance because of that knowledge so even without radio capability it would have made sense to launch an assault against the com-station. Unless, Julian now realized, Doctor Young hadn't known about the Animus and was sent IN to prison on purpose to learn what he could about it.

The thoughts swirled about in Julian's head coming together for a moment of clarity before shattering into a thousand fragments once more. He watched the pacing Combine Assassin, who had identified herself as Theta Dark, with increasing enmity. He'd already been enraged by the actions of the Combine in torturing their test subjects and he'd seen first hand the splintered mind of one Allison Rogue but now he saw an organism who's sole purpose and destiny was to complete the will of the Combine. Such a being could not be allowed to exist and yet he saw no opportunity to kill her, if his skills even permitted such.

"You're army fights valiantly Mister Freeman," she said punching up a video feed of the battle taking place above ground, "But their numbers are vanishing."

"What do you want of me?" Julian asked, having seen his Father scrambling for cover on the video feed.

"You see what is in that man's hand?" Theta asked, her pale sickly fingers pointing to the screed, to Julian's Father, "The Combine is very much interested in this device."

"The Piece of Eden," Julian gasped having only heard scattered rumors of it from his Father's oldest consorts, "You want me to get it?"

"Surely a warrior of your caliber could procure it for us."

"I think I could," Julian stated though his voice betrayed more confidence than his words, "on one condition."

"That is?"

"Let them go," Julian said, "Let the Resistance walk out."

"They will not leave Mister Freeman - that much is clear."

"Call of the attack against them," Julian theorized, "stop sending in your troops and tell them to leave. Close up all the doors and windows and they will not be able to get in."

"They have explosives, not to mention that incredible device," Theta countered coldly.

"They don't have anything that could break down those walls," Julian said and though in actuality he wasn't sure of his words he made sure his mannerisms tone and expression were those of absolute certainty, "Just do it."

"Very well Mister Freeman," she cooed, "We have a deal."

Desmond stood on the threshold of consciousness. He was barely aware of where he was or who he was. Grenades went off, bullets buzzed by and screams of his dying soldiers as they fought to their last breath were sung into his ears like a nightmare lullaby. Shephard, he knew, stood beside him, though as he drifted in and out of reality he couldn't see the man. Then the din of battle seemed still. Desmond thought for a moment that his body might have passed from existence and that perhaps the arms of death had opened for him. The after life beyond was calling, he thought, with silence and peace. This was not the case, however, as he struggled to his feet. The Combine soldiers had retreated, they were moving back, though he knew they far out numbered the three hundred odd soldiers he had left at his disposal.

From the darkness came a voice, deep and resounding.

"The Combine Empire has little to gain from your deaths or the destruction of anymore of our property. Be gone now and we shall spare you!"

"They gotta be fucking with us," Shephard growled, "No way this is real sir."

"Maybe the Piece has done its job and frightened them," Desmond reasoned, though the fog of his mind clouded his thoughts.

"We can't just give up sir, your son is in there with them," Shephard reminded him.

No sooner had Shephard spoken than a door had opened and shut and Julian had been shoved out. The assassin strode forward, though as he approached his Father he felt a wave of guilt in knowing what he had just agreed to. Still he was glad to see the old man had not been killed in battle and despite their differences and almost constant bickering he hugged his Father close. There was equal warmth in the handshake he shared with Shephard who had become his martial trainer. Everything that could not be accomplished with a stealth kill was taught him by Shephard.

"Sir," Shephard said, "What are your orders."

"They have given me back my son," Desmond reasoned, "I say we go while our fortune is good."

Shephard's face bore incredulity but his heart was loyal to the man. Soon enough what was left of their forces, three hundred and thirty four men inside the gate and one hundred and twenty outside, was moving back toward their armored convoy in retreat. Many of the soldiers of the Resistance voiced their disdain for the decision. Many wanted to stay and fight the Combine to the bitter end. The weariness of Desmond's bones had made the decision. The Piece of Eden had aged him what felt like a decade and his aching mind was made only worse by his aching body.

Julian watched the sunrise from Clear Water for the first time since his departure for the train job. He found himself turning inexorably to the experiences he'd had, to the revelations he'd been privy to - to the dark knowledge of a dark deed he was meant to commit. Things had seemed much simpler when he was just stealing supplies from trains and killing the occasional Combine supporter. It amazed him how many humans had sold out their own species and yet here he was dwelling in their shoes. What choice did he have? The Piece of Eden had no value to him but his Father did. For the assassin there was no black and white way to see it, no moral code beyond which he was not allowed to tread. For the assassin nothing is true and everything is permitted. Still Julian wondered if he would be able to take the Piece and hand it over to the Combine. At that moment he felt it a better fate to die on Theta Dark's blade a martyr for the cause - or was such talk noble nonsense clouding what should have been a rational mind? Julian watched the sunrise, and thought.


	6. Chapter 6: Sealed

**Chapter Six: Sealed**

**A shadow moved along the perimeter, as black as the night and as stealthy as a phantasm. All but incorporeal it moved. Giovanni stood with his gun raised. Though his eyes couldn't see much of anything his instincts told him something was out there. The crafty soldier had lived through everything the Combine had to throw at him and he'd even managed to make it out of the recent battle on Coldwind Lake with barely a scratch. Unfortunately for him his lack of injury had put him back on the perimeter guard at Black Mesa Base. **

**He saw it then, the shadow moving toward him and though he was not an easily frightened man he felt his throat tighten and his heart sink at the sight of the oncoming doom. He managed to fire a shot, though the shadow seemed intangible, the bullet ineffective as the blade came across his chest. Giovanni reached into his pocket and pushed the remote alarm they'd given him. For a moment, as he collapsed to the ground, he thought the shadow might depart and leave him injured, but not dead. Then came the blade and with it darkness.**

**Theta Dark departed from the decapitated corpse of her fallen foe and pushed an alarm of her own. If it was a fight Black Mesa wanted it was a fight they would get.**

**Julian paced to and fro in his room. Normally by this hour he was out on a mission. Even on days when no active attacks on the Combine were planned he was typically working to defend the perimeter or run errands for Shephard and his Father. Today his mind was elsewhere, swirling around in his thoughts were images of a dark assassin and a golden sphere. Despite being out of the hefty HEV suit and back in his assassin robes he still felt a weight on his shoulders. Julian glanced over at spot-bot, a tiny robot he'd built out of a disarmed Hopper mine, the glowing blue-green eye of his little friend seemed of offer sympathy.**

**On the one hand giving over the Piece of Eden seemed somewhat honorable. The assassin had made an agreement with someone and he knew that it would be a noble thing to hold up his end of the bargain. The thought crossed his mind that showing Theta Dark his good intentions might win her over but the assassin shook that thought from his mind knowing the Combine would not have offered such a creature full free will. Even if they did not control her mind they must have controlled her in some way. A weapon such as her was too powerful to create without a fail safe.**

**Julian shivered when he considered the cold eyes of his enemy assassin. The Combine clearly had not given her a soul - if such an ethereal form even existed she was surely deprived of it. The assassin knew that the Combine would not rest until they had perfected the formula, until squads of killer assassins were hunting down the Resistance. How much more powerful then, would those assassins be if the Combine had the Piece of Eden? Julian put the thought out of his mind and headed for his Father's room. Perhaps the old man had some answers that would help make the decision more clear.**

**Desmond was seated, as he usually was, at his computer terminal. Julian realized how weathered his Father now seemed, how old and frail. Perhaps if the Combine used the Piece of Eden they too would be more weakened by it than bolstered by its power.**

"**Strange to see you here at this hour," Desmond noted not even looking up from his work.**

"**I haven't felt the same, since the battle."**

"**Next time you pull a job you will have others with you," Desmond said matter-of-factly, "No more of this lone assassin business."**

"**Back in that factory, I saw things," Julian started, "terrible things."**

"**What the Combine does is always terrible," Desmond said and now he did look at his son, with great pain burning beneath his brown eyes.**

"**They have an Animus."**

"**What?"**

"**Not just one, hundreds. They are using them to scour the human memory of our ancestors in search of something."**

"**Perhaps the secret to our weaknesses," Desmond theorized.**

"**I was thinking the Pieces of Eden."**

"**You know there's more than one?"**

"**I suspected as much," Julian admitted, "they will come here to get it."**

"**Funny, if they want the Piece of Eden than why let us go?" Desmond pondered and Julian masked his guilt well.**

"**Either way we need to stop them, who knows how many they have worldwide. It's only a matter of time before they get their hands on a Piece."**

"**Your Mother and I hid several of them," Desmond explained, "but we never found them all. Some I imagine are still scattered, others might be in the hands of the Templars."**

"**You think the Templars are still out there?" Julian asked, a bit surprised at the mention of the legendary Knights Templar.**

"**I have no doubt," Desmond answered walking toward the door.**

"**The odds truly are stacked against us," Julian sighed.**

"**As long as we have a Piece and they do not we hold some semblance of balance," Desmond said exiting, "Now if you'll excuse me I have to talk to Shephard about increasing our defenses and getting some new recruits."**

**Julian could see the golden sphere from where he was. An urge came over him and his hands moved inexorably toward it. It was almost as if it called to him, the seductive resonant energy of the device enticing him to taste and see. With greedy hands he took it and placed it in his robes. Guilt fell over him then and despite the outcry of his conscience he ran. His feet carried in him in full sprint all the way to the jeep he had waiting. The assassin didn't look back, he didn't think, he just drove.**

**General Yakamoto stood with fists clenched tightly at his sides. His daughter stood nearby at the computer terminal relaying real-time battle information to the grizzled old General. Yuki thought her Father mad for not evacuating. The Combine had come with some seven thousand troops, more than three times that of Black Mesa Base. Already the outer defenses were breached and the upper levels compromised. Yakamoto had sealed the shafts, the only entrance ways down below to the bunkers but it was only a matter of time. Already Combine Earth machines were moving massive amounts of dirt and combing the area for secret entrances. Down below two thousand Resistance fighters prepared for battle, rigging explosives along the walls of corridors and placing Hoppers to direct the oncoming Overwatch onslaught into convenient choke points. It would be one hell of a fight when it finally came fully underway. **

**Yuki watched the monitors closely as the handful of scattered perimeter defense troops were snuffed out like a weak flame. She knew her Father had fought many battles but the odds of this one were too skewed for any victory to be had. Being trapped beneath the Earth with the Combine ready to crush them wasn't the most advantageous position to be in.**

"**They've found an entrance sir," Yuki reported.**

"**Let the Vortigaunts handle the first wave Yuki," Yakamoto said with a dismissive wave of his hand.**

"**But sir there's too many of them, and we only have a hundred V-"**

"**Let them handle it!" Yakamoto screamed. Yuki had never seen such anger but she could not allow the Vortigaunts to walk blindly into death.**

"**You can't just use them as fodder," she protested, slamming her own first against the terminal.**

"**I can do whatever I want, I'm in charge here!" Yakamoto said calmly.**

"**Fuck you," Yuki said, feeling a rush of rebellion through her spirit, "I'm going to help them."**

"**You'll only get yourself killed."**

"**To die beside friends fighting for what I believe in, what could be nobler?"**

"**So be it." The old man said and though Yuki thought him cold as she grabbed her AK-47 and stormed from the room she did not stay long enough to see the tears streaming down his face.**

**Julian watched the Kansas countryside go whizzing past him. It looked the same on either side, a homogenous collection of trees and grass spanning a great expanse of relative flat ground. The road ahead was one he'd traveled before, just recently in fact, the road to Coldwind. Had he slowed to see the sights he would have had time to question his current course of action. The assassin knew he could not afford to grow a conscience in this moment. The deal had been made and his Father was alive, the Piece of Eden was a small price to pay.**

**A wave of hopelessness shot through him like a bullet through the heart. The Combine truly did have them all at their mercy. The arm of the Empire seemed ever reaching. Across the expanse of space the Combine had come to enslave them leaving billions dead in their initial wake of decimation. Now the remaining millions had to survive in a dystopian hell. Despite his anger at them Julian knew that rationally there was no winning. Perhaps it was time to surrender.**

**Thunder seemed to strike his mind then. The Combine had killed his Mother - the Combine had taken from him the opportunity to live in a relatively peaceful and safe world. **

"**Fuck the Combine," he found himself repeating as the Kansas countryside slipped past.**

**The words seemed to satisfy him as they rolled off his tongue and almost subconsciously his jeep turned right instead of left. It was time for a detour.**

**Yuki directed the Vorts to fall back to cover letting off a string of suppressive fire from her AK and taking out at least one Combine soldier as she herself dived behind a crate. The wooden box wouldn't do much to block the pulse rifle rounds of the Combine AR2, she knew this and even as she reloaded her eyes searched for ample cover. She stood back up lobbing a fragmentation grenade in the direction of the endless stream of soldiers. The tight cramped corridors of Black Mesa base were both blessing and curse. They bottle-necked the enemy but also made the fighting tight and the margin for mistakes slim. Any error could get you killed in these cramped quarter firefights. The grenade detonated and Yuki smiled wide as the sound of screams through Combine the vocoder echoed in the halls. She'd gotten at least three with that blast and now she broke from cover again the Vorts launching several well-aimed thunderbolts toward the Combine until she was safely behind a set of bullet proof barrels.**

**The Combine was already pressing in on her and the Vorts were begging to slow, their own bodies only able to draw a certain amount of energy before facing fatigue. Yuki popped out of cover yet again and took out three more Overwatch including an Elite. There were too many though and she and the Vorts were forced to race down the tunnel serpentine style to avoid being hit. She knew that a few hundred feet down that tunnel the reinforcements were waiting to blow the corridor and collapse it as soon as she and the Vorts were safe. Then she heard it behind her and saw the bright flash, a Combine Dark Energy Grenade. **

**Yuki threw herself to the floor in time but the Vortigaunt in front of her could not escape. Yuki watched in horror as the Vort's body was surrounded in white particle matter flame before dissolving entirely from existence. With anger in her heart she stood and fired down the tunnel running backwards and quick as she could. She was safe then, safe amidst the ranks of her own troops. There was a resounding thud as the tunnel behind her was blown with explosives killing at least a dozen soldiers and sealing the corridors across the base.**

**The battle was far from over and it wouldn't slow the Combine more than an hour. Yuki looked over the half dozen remaining Vortigaunts who'd escaped with her. Her eyes filled with sadness and yet her heart soaked in burning anger for the monsters that had done this. Then she saw it, moving almost faster than her eyes could perceive. The shadow seemed so innocuous to her at first glance but as she watched its stealthy movements her mind filled with fear. Yuki reloaded her weapon and chased after the shadow with vengeance in her heart.**

**Theta knew she had company but did not alter her course. Her target was simple. What little the Combine knew about its location hadn't been much to go on but she assumed it wouldn't be hard to find. The dark assassin hooked a right and came into the armory and before she'd even fully entered her senses had scanned the room and told her all she needed to know. There was nothing of use to her here. As she turned she found the woman who'd been following her was right on her. The dark assassin pulled out her katana attempting to swipe Yuki's head from her shoulders. Yuki was too smart for such things and came up far short of the reach of the blade firing her AK. The first two rounds hit dead on and the assassin found herself staring blankly at Yuki.**

"**You shouldn't have done that," Theta said. **

**Her cold tone stole some of Yuki's rage for a moment, a moment long enough for the assassin to move. Yuki knew this wasn't going to end well if she didn't act but her reflexes seemed infinitely slow compared to the smooth and elegant actions of the dark assassin. Still, Yuki had been trained in several forms of Martial arts having earned a black belt before the Combine invasion had even taken place. The assassin was quick but Yuki managed to lift her knife from its sheath and deflect the Katana enough to avoid being cut in two. The Katana blade cut into Yuki's arm a bit but without even flinching she lifted her AK and began firing.**

**The assassin was anticipating just that and moved so impossibly fast she was behind Yuki in what seemed quicker than the blink of an eye. Yuki was pulling the pin on a grenade as the assassin struck out with her sword. The katana pierced through Yuki's torso emerging on the other side. Yuki gasped and blood rose in her throat. The agony was unbearable but she had to get away. She stumbled forward, falling off the blade and nearly blacking out as the pain wracked her body.**

"**I told you it wasn't a good idea to have shot me," the dark assassin spat, "Now you will die choking on your own blood."**

"**Choke on this," Yuki said tossing the grenade she'd been cooking directly at the assassin. She scrambled away as she threw it praying that she might be safe.**

**It was cooked to perfection and though Theta Dark was impossibly quick, the explosion was in progress before the grenade had halved the distance. Shrapnel caught her in the throat and upper chest, tore into her hands and sent her stumbling backward. Her agonizing screams echoed like a melody in Yuki's ears as the woman, blinded by shrapnel and bleeding from the wound the assassin's blade had left, collapsed to the floor of the armory. Yuki went in and out of consciousness, a smile on her lips and the deed of justice done by her hands. The taste of her own blood could not ruin the taste of revenge.**

**Julian approached the woods carefully. The sun hung low in the September sky and he knew the residents of this particularly copse of trees were not the types to startle. He'd parked his jeep some distance away though as he watched Michael walk from the tree line wielding an AR2 he realized he might not have parked far enough away. The assassin lifted his arms and kept walking until the man had recognized him.**

"**Jesus, its you," Michael said with a laugh, lowering his weapon.**

"**Nope, it's me Julian, Jesus was like two millennia ago," Julian joked.**

"**You're right," Michael agreed, "And you aren't the type for turning the other cheek."**

"**I'm more an eye for an eye kinda guy myself."**

"**Then you're going to want to hear what I've got to tell you," Michael said and his demeanor was suddenly grim.**

**Michael led the assassin back to camp where Allison stood smiling and happy to see him, though she hardly seemed to recognize him at all. The assassin sat and let down his hood, feeling somewhat at ease with his newfound friends.**

"**You're lucky you found me at all," Michael said, "I was planning on packing up and moving farther away from that damned factory."**

"**Good," Julian said nodding in agreement, "but what about this news you've got for me?"**

"**Comes from Black Mesa," Michael explained, "I picked up radio signals, very faint, not Combine. Definitely your boys down in Okalahoma."**

"**What about them?" Julian asked accepting a bowl of stew from Allison.**

"**They were attacked. From what I gather a substantial Combine force."**

"**There after the Animus no doubt, probably to destroy it."**

"**That would be my guess as well," Michael agreed.**

"**Can't believe I was going to make a deal with those fuckers," Julian said with a self-deprecating laugh, "I'm glad I decided to come here instead."**

"**As am I," Michael said.**

"**Me too," Allison chimed in, "Though I'm not quite sure who you are, you sure do have a handsome face."**

"**Thanks, I guess," Julian chuckled.**

"**Bastards never play fair," Julian mused aloud, "I need someway to settle the odds, and if they're going to have super-assassins I need someway of being a super-assassin."**

"**What did you have in mind?" Michael asked.**

"**Not sure, it'd have to be something pretty spectacu- Wait a second," Julian said with his eyes wide in a eureka moment, "I got it."**

"**Got what?"**

"**Two words Mike, Portal - Gun."**

"**She is clinging to the vortessence."**

"**Her body is weak but her soul is strong."**

"**The Yuki Yakamoto will survive."**

"**Our work is done, we must move her."**

**Yuki's head throbbed as if it'd been struck by the hammer of Thor himself. Her body felt even worse though she took comfort in the fact that he face was numb. She could hear their voices but her eyes could not see. She could feel their hands carrying her gently. She breathed deep and it pained her greatly.**

"**Where are we?" she whispered.**

"**Far from Black Mesa," one Vortigaunt answered, "We have escaped that place."**

"**We were helped there by a strange man."**

"**Strange and dark."**

"**My eyes," Yuki cried, for the first time feeling the emotional impact of losing her sight.**

"**We took from them all the shrapnel we could the Yuki Yakamoto."**

"**We pray your vision might return with time."**

"**Rest now," one said and the other's chimed in immediately.**

"**Yes Rest."**

**Julian stood and watched the sunset and remembered a similar event only days before. Now, watching the solar sphere disappear beneath the horizon, he felt no guilt as he had when he watched the sunrise a few days earlier. His course of action was clear and his tools were before him. He went over the groves and details of the golden sphere and held it up to the dying light of the sun. Pieces of Eden, the tools of ancient gods in controlling man and keeping us as ignorant slaves. A rush of unforgotten guilt rushed into him. He had actually considered willingly handing over such a tool to the forces of the Combine.**

**For a moment the assassin felt powerfully tempted to go to Black Mesa, to rescue those within, perhaps even find his friend Giovanni and make a daring last stand. With the Piece he could destroy a great many Combine soldiers, he had no doubt, and perhaps it could even allow him to kill Theta Dark. The assassin could not afford such bravado. Overconfidence could be his undoing. He would not go to Black Mesa - there was a mission for him here, one that had a great deal of importance. To even the playing field he needed to have tools at his disposal that would make him more than a man in the mind of the Combine. It was no easy task, the Combine were not easily frightened by anything, let alone one man.**

**Julian glanced back at the camp and heard what he thought might have been the most wonderful sound he'd ever heard. His eyes followed the guidance of his ears to the source. Allison stood in the grass picking berries that were part of a crop she and Michael had planted. But it wasn't her actions that had intrigued him. It was the words of her lips. She was singing them. Julian was not typically one for sentiment but his eyes felt wet with tears. His spirit felt as though it was soaring and without even consciously acting he found his way to her.**

"**What is that you are singing?" Julian asked, feeling a fool and wiping the tears from his eyes with his embarrassment written on his face.**

"**I do not know what it is called," Allison admitted, perplexed at the sight of tears in the man's eyes, "Why are you crying? It is very unbecoming of an assassin."**

"**You do remember me then."**

"**Right now I do," Allison said, "but soon enough that memory may be gone."**

"**And what of your memory of the song? Where did you learn it? Did Michael teach it to you?"**

"**No," Allison explained, "I thought of it myself. It comes to me in pieces, as I dream, and with each dawn comes a new verse for me to sing."**

"**I haven't heard anyone sing in so long," Julian admitted, sitting on the ground beside her, "It was overwhelming to hear you, to hear anyone, singing."**

"**Why? Do your people not sing?" **

"**Not anymore Allison," Julian replied, "Not anymore."**

"**But why? I find that such sounds lift my spirit to let me soar."**

"**Yeah," Julian agreed, "Fighting tooth and nail and losing while our species withers to dust don't leave much room for hope. And hope is what builds songs."**

"**Hopelessness is what built my song Julian," Allison said with a smile, "and the song is what gives hope. You're getting your cause and effect mixed up."**

"**Perhaps I am," Julian admitted with a smile, "but I wouldn't want to be caught singing."**

"**Why not?" Allison asked inquisitively turning his head.**

"**It would be unbecoming of an assassin," Julian joked and Allison laughed for but a moment before her expression went blank.**

"**I must be going, Michael told me not to talk to strangers."**

**Julian tightened his fists at that declaration, his hatred for the Combine flaring like the recently extinguished sun. Unlike the sun, however, Julian's enmity knew no bounds - it was an imperishable and indomitable flame. He knew now that there could be no compromise and no surrender. He had glared into the face of temptation and vanquished the demons of seduction. The Combine had hurt nearly everyone he'd come to care about, nearly everyone on the planet was dead, injured enslaved or dying because of them. The odds only enraged him more. He had beaten temptation and now his path was sealed before him. He would help defeat the Combine Empire, or he would die trying.**


	7. Chapter 7: Transfer

Chapter Seven: Transfer

The tunnels were being emptied, supplies were being moved and prisoners were being corralled. Amongst them Yakamoto stood, his hands behind his back and his pride fully crushed. He studied the faces of the three dozen prisoners the Combine had felt were important enough to take but his daughter was not amongst them. The General, his life lived filled with power and pride, felt a pang of remorse for his harsh words and rash actions. Yuki had been right to question him, his leadership and arrogant overconfidence had led to this debacle, had led to the deaths of nearly every soldier under his command. The General, every filed with pride, now hung his head in shame.

Down deeper in the tunnels a Combine sweep team entered the armory and found the scorch marks from an explosion there. The fight had penetrated this deep apparently. One of the soldiers, an Elite, hunched down over a corpse and checked the woman's pulse. The perplexed soldier turned to his companions and gestured for the one with a more sophisticated medical device to examine the body. The Soldier scanned the body and gasped. Despite having her throat torn out and face mangled by shrapnel this woman appeared to be alive, though her heart seemed to be beating three times too slow.

"She can't be alive can she?" One of the soldiers asked.

The body twitched to life and two cold white eyes opened.

Desmond stood on the threshold of madness. He'd just been informed of the attack on Black Mesa. A group of twenty survivors had radioed him and were now on their way to Clear Water likely with Combine in pursuit. Even if the Combine did not ride the coattails of this new group they would undoubtedly turn on Clear Water next anyway. The Resistance had only survived because the damage it did was minimal. The Combine viewed them as just a nuisance to be dealt with in due time slowly but surely weeded out but with their direct assault on the factory at Coldwind the Combine would be set on a war path.

There was something else troubling the elder assassin that day. The odd feeling ran up and down his spine like a steak of déjà vu. Time seemed to slow down for a moment there and then, standing in his office, was a man in a blue suit. The man, pale beyond belief and with what looked like a government issue haircut stood silently and adjusted his tie. To anyone else his arrival would have been frightening but it Desmond brought the dread not of surprise but of familiarity.

"Good morning Mister Miles," the man in the suit said, "It has been quite a long time."

"What do you want?"

"Don't feign ignorance Mister Miles, we both know what I am here for… after all it was I who helped get it into your hands all those years ago."

"If we don't like the Combine ruling over us what makes you think that-" Desmond tried to say but the cold stare of the G-Man seemed to cut him down to size and he turned to the place near his desk where the Piece of Eden typically sat, "It isn't here."

"Surely you would not loose such a valuable object," the man said narrowing his eyes grimly, "Especially one on loan."

"It was right here, I had it right here. I-" Desmond froze watching the enigmatic G-Man become less and less tangible before his eyes.

"I assure you Mister Miles, I will find the device."

Desmond wiped the cold sweat from his brow as the man dissipated entirely. He hated dealing with that long forgotten phantom, the vestige of a forgotten age clinging to humanity. Humanity already had enough parasites feeding from it and needed no more to suck dry old wounds. The elder assassin collapsed into his seat with a sigh. Where had his Piece of Eden gone? The thought entered his mind almost immediately that Shephard might have taken it. The Colonel was out on patrol and while no Combine were reported in the area several zombies had been reported. The thought didn't sit right though, Shephard knew little if anything of the Piece and hadn't asked Desmond for permission.

The unsettling realization came then, that it might have been Julian who took the golden sphere. Desmond had heard from the scouts that his son had left and now it seemed obvious to him. But for what purpose would Julian do such a thing? Was the young assassin looking for revenge and planning on taking on Coldwind all by himself. The thought made Desmond cringe but it didn't seem the correct answer. The elder assassin shook his head hoping that his son knew what he was getting himself into and wouldn't come back looking older than his own Father.

Julian loaded up the jeep with whatever he could. He'd already brought with him ample ammunition for the XM-8, his hidden blade and his saber and of course his trusty crowbar. The assassin had to admit he'd made one major mistake though, the HEV suit was back in Clear Water. This meant that he'd have to make every shot count in order to bring down his opponents before being hit. With the HEV suit he could go into battle with an extra portion of confidence that was absent without it. Now he was vulnerable. His assassin robes wouldn't stop any bullets blades or shrapnel. The assassin was far from afraid though, having been in combat dozens of times without the HEV suit and come out alive.

Michael stood at a distance watching him loading up the jeep. The assassin was a bit of an enigma to the man as was the rest of the Resistance. He'd made a nomadic life for himself and the only time he'd stepped on the Combine's toes was when he'd rescued Allison. He could understand hating the Combine and defending himself against them was a key part of what he did to stay alive but to be as bold as to anger them on a regular basis all over the country was an action he saw as suicidal. He'd told Julian this outright and the assassin could hardly disagree after hearing what had befallen Black Mesa Base. Despite his doubts about the mission of the Resistance Mike had to admit he was tempted to travel with the young man. With Allison to look after there was little he could do other than to point Julian on his way.

"The location of the teleport is marked on the map," Michael said handing Julian a folded up map, "We used to get into Aperture Science that way. I also scribbled down the code for the teleport pad… my memory is a bit rusty so it might be off by a few numbers."

"Thanks," Julian said shaking the man's hand, "Tell Allison goodbye."

"Tell me yourself," Allison called.

"Fair enough," Julian said, "Goodbye Allison."

"Happy hunting Mister Assassin."

"I want you to remember me this time, so I've been thinking of-" Julian lifted her chin and kissed her quickly on the lips. Allison recoiled as if in shock and slapped Julian across the face.

"I think you got through to her," Michael laughed, "She might just remember you."

"Great, then she'll also remember that she's angry at me."

"Good luck kid," Michael said.

Julian revved up the engine and hit the road hoping to keep his distance from the Coldwind Factory and the almost constant Strider patrols coming out of it. His destination was in northern New Mexico outside a town called Maxwell more than four hundred miles from where he was. The assassin knew that once he arrived the difficulties would truly begin. Michael had warned him that the Aperture Science Research Facility had more than a few security counter-measures for any unauthorized personal. One was actually fully combat ready sentry-droids some of which were on stationary tripods but others had been developed that could walk. Michael had theorized that these might still be operational since they had a battery life somewhere in the decades.

The road ahead raced past as did the country-side beside him. For once there was no ambiguity in his heart or deep yearning questions in his soul. He had a plan, he had a mission and if successful he would have a gun for those who were still alive to use against the Combine.

Theta Dark lingered in and out of existence, her consciousness burning bright one moment before flickering dangerously close to death. She could make out the forms, blurry but unmistakable, of the Stalkers. Stalkers were the Combine drones specialized for anything that wasn't combat related. Some had free will to an extent but all were part of a Combine hive mind. Theta Dark knew that their pale skinned and deformed bodies were at work on her.

"Her body is broken," she heard one say, though the words seemed like a foreign language she could barely understand.

"There are others ready, send one of them," another chimed.

"Scrap her perhaps?"

"No," another voice said, "We transfer her to one of the new ones, one that does not yet have a consciousness."

"Iota?"

"No," the Stalker replied, "Lambda."

Yuki had barely the strength enough to speak, her face was still covered with bandages and her eyes still stung when they were opened. Her eyesight had returned in one of them though it certainly was not the 2020 vision she had once enjoyed it was enough to aim a gun and find a target. That was what her voice cried out for, the right for vengeance. The Combine had taken not just many of her closest friends and brother's in arms but her own Father was now likely a test subject for Combine interrogation.

Desmond considered the woman carefully. Despite barely harboring the strength to stand and walk the injured woman seemed passionate enough to visit the Combine and kill each and every one of them with her bare hands. Desmond respected her determination and sympathized with her anger but Clear Water was in no position to launch an assault after the defeat at Coldwind had so decimated their numbers. Nearly a hundred new recruits had been found but that was scarcely enough to make up for the thousands that had died in the battle. Clear Water only boasted twelve hundred soldiers now, barely enough to put up a fight if the Combine came knocking. All Desmond could do for the twenty or so that had escaped Black Mesa was offer them a semi-safe harbor.

"We cannot let them do this," Yuki said again, her fists tightening as she stared down Desmond and Shephard.

"I agree sir," Shephard said, "but I know that we can't take them down from here. We need to call together an army from every Resistance base in the nation."

"Even if we do that we'll only get some thirty thousand troops," Desmond lamented, "That might be enough to take down Coldwind but with the Piece of Eden missing it would still be a tough fight with a very small reward."

"We could take a city then," Yuki reasoned.

"For now I think we need to bide our time and protect ourselves," Desmond replied, "We'll put out a call to the three nearest bases to send in whatever they can spare but just to defend us… for now."

"Fair enough," Yuki said sighing to relieve her ire.

Regardless of her anger for the Combine she saw Desmond's point and even if she hadn't he was the ranking officer in the chain of command. Desmond, in many ways, was the Commanding Officer of the entire Resistance. There was only one General who held a higher rank than he and that was her own Father but even Yakamoto would have followed the orders of Desmond Moses Miles. Everyone in the Resistance had a great deal of respect for the man and Yuki had no doubt that at least ten thousand Resistance soldiers would be in Clear Water before the end of the week.

Yuki wanted her Father back now and she wondered what lengths someone like Julian would go to. She'd pretended to be cold to the lad when he'd been in Black Mesa but in truth she saw what he did as noble, going into battle by himself with no fear. Her decision to stand beside the Vortigaunts might have been influenced by the lone assassin's behavior. Yuki wasn't sure whether to admire Julian for that or to blame him for rubbing off on her.

Desmond stood outside and watched the sunset. His mind was wandering now, worried about a great many events. His life had always had an element as turmoil even for the years he'd spent hiding from his assassin heritage. Those years had ended when he was kidnapped by Abstergo Industries, a front organization for the Knights Templar. Somehow that one event had led to this point in his life. There was so much on his shoulders. His son was missing and was likely carrying the Piece of Eden and planning to do something stupid. The Combine had built more than one Animus and were now actively searching the genetic memories of people for some ancient secrets. The Combine seemed intent on open war with the Resistance and on top of it all his enigmatic friend in the blue suit had come to collect on a loan. Desmond sighed and returned to the base wondering if the world would ever return from the precipice of hell.

Julian felt as though he was baking under the late afternoon sun. Despite it being mid-September the heat was intense. The assassin had to wonder what exactly the Combine was doing to Earth's atmosphere to stimulate such heat. He couldn't truly expect the Texas New Mexico border to have been any cooler though. The Combine had nearly erased education and Julian's knowledge of the terrain of these former states was limited to talk of how arid and hot they typically were.

The assassin had deeper concerns now. His jeep was running out of fuel. The Resistance barely existed out here - even the Combine didn't have a heavy presence. Still the assassin managed to find a marker on his Resistance map, a tool he used to find safe houses, abandon shacks and the old gas stations that made life as a Resistance fighter easier.

The road ahead seemed to blur and the New Mexico sun blistered down over the assassin. Still Julian was alert enough to spot the small town as it came into view. The village was nothing now, a handful of abandoned homes with pain chipping and wooden beams bowing. Something was off, something carried on the wind. The assassin leapt from his jeep with his assault rifle drawn. The fowl smelling air told the tale all too well. This town was abandoned for a reason. An artillery shell nearby told Julian that the Resistance had once had an outpost here and that the Combine had shelled them. These canisters were fired from cannons and contained up to five our six living head crabs. The Combine had no qualms about turning their foes into zombies and then moving on.

Julian moved forward tentatively. It was clear that this battle wasn't too recent but the assassin knew better than to underestimate zombies. He moved to the pump praying it would still be functional and wiping his brow when it was. Before his tank was even full the foul smell returned, this time strong enough to cut through the stench of gasoline. The assassin spun sighting the first few zombies ambling from the brush nearby.

The XM-8 was a noisy weapon and Julian knew that attracting attention was not the best decision if he wanted to come out of this alive. The assassin leapt over a nearby fence and bum-rushed the first zombie with saber drawn decapitating it and killing the head crab in the process. The next zombie had his leg removed and was then impaled through the skull. Already though, despite his efforts at silence and stealth, dozens of shadows moved on the edge of the town ambling out of the bushes or down the deserted road.

Julian thought to get to his jeep and get as far away from this cursed town as possible but the sight of a fast zombie tearing through the bushes toward his vehicle made him reconsider. The fast zombie was a creature of pure muscle, its body was a torn down human body one devoid of fat and possessive of strength and speed that rivaled Julian's own abilities. Julian lifted his XM-8 and led his target firing several shots as the fast zombie barreled past his jeep and leapt the fence toward him. The bullets did their jobs though the creature twitched painfully on the ground before succumbing to death.

More were moving in now including a poison zombie who now crawled into the cab of his jeep. There were few foes the assassin enjoyed facing less than the poison zombie and in truth he'd only ever killed one of the hulk-like beasts. They were parasitic hosts for toxic head crabs that had been bio-engineered by the Combine to poison any they attacked with the simplest touch releasing toxic spores. Each poison zombie typically had a few head crabs hanging from it which were used as both a weapon and way to spread the species.

Julian ran now, bolting away from his jeep toward a house atop a nearby hill, one he hoped would make a good place for his final stand. It looked a defensible enough position, atop a hill with the windows already boarded up. His legs carried him quickly up the hill and into the house. The assassin slammed shut the door and aimed his rifle between the boards on the windows. He would have to pick his shots carefully. To his horror the town had seemed to come to life and from his vantage point the assassin counted more than two dozen normal zombies, a poison zombie and at least two more fast zombies. Each seemed acutely aware that their town had a visitor. Julian considered his options, particularly the one about making a break for his jeep but even with his skill this big a horde presented a problem. He fired a shot taking out the first zombie with a three round burst of the XM-8.

Already they were catching on and the howls and grunts as they made their way up the hill made Julian cringe. The assassin readied his assault rifle and awaited the assault.

Theta Dark felt her mind flicker back to life. Her eyes adjusted to the intense light of the room to find herself in a laboratory of some sort. She could see something beside her and a chill ran through her when she realized it was her own broken body some thirty feet away. Tubes ran in and out of her former body, one down her throat, another into her skull. She slowly realized that she was dead, physically and yet she was not, her consciousness seemed to have skipped over to her new body. She lifted her arms and tilted her head to the Stalker's that surrounded her.

"She is alive," one said.

"The transfer is complete," another said with satisfaction, "how are you feeling Theta?"

"Like a new woman," Theta replied standing very carefully but finding the motion fluent and not at all difficult, "I feel incredible."

"Your new body is just that," a Stalker explained, "Lambda is our latest adult model. She is far more beautiful and nearly perfect."

"And with the mind of Theta Dark she is one step closer to perfect," Theta cooed evilly, "What will you have me do?"

"We want the golden sphere of power."

"Gordon Freeman was supposed to deliver it to us."

"The man you spoke to was not called Gordon Freeman," the Stalker's explained punching up a profile of Julian on the computer, "He is an assassin, that much is true, but his name is Miles."

"Desmond's son," Theta realized, "I cannot believe I trusted him."

"Your new physical form will see through such deceptions," the Stalkers assured her, "your eyes see far beyond the normal human spectrum, even detecting heart rate, and blood pressure."

"We want you to get the so called Piece of Eden at Clear Water," another Stalker said, "And bring Desmond Miles to us."

Julian had bided his time long enough. The assassin had picked off more than a dozen of the zombies and though the Poison Zombie was still lurking somewhere in the darkness Julian knew that his time was running out. He was already behind schedule. He needed to get that Portal Device if the Resistance was to stand a chance against the likes of Theta Dark and the Combine.

The darkness was the time of the assassin and he slipped out into the night bobbing and weaving between shrubs, trees and bushes as best he could. His steps were silent and swift but even as he approached his jeep he could see the hulking figure behind it. The poison zombie hadn't moved. The behemoth huffed and puffed under the weight of its head crab minions. Julian knew he would need to dispose of it and quickly but the assassin also knew that it wouldn't be easy. The Combine had genetically engineered the poison zombie to endure damage that would bring down an elephant.

The assassin decided it was best to do a double attack, to use throwing knives in quick succession to kill the head crabs while unloading a clip with the XM-8 to kill the host. Julian tossed the knives first amazed at his accuracy as each head crab fell dead to the road below. The zombie spun on him then and the assassin began firing his gun filling his foe full of holes. Still the poison zombie came on and Julian knew his gunfire would attract the others and fast. Already three or four emerged from the bushes, their black forms ambling toward him as he took out his saber and finally finished the poison zombie. The assassin wasted no time and hopped atop the jeep and started it up breathing a sigh of relief as he left the zombie ridden town behind him.

He'd lost too much time during that stop and cursed himself for not being more aggressive. Julian knew that if what had happened to Black Mesa was an absolute defeat that there were Resistance prisoners who needed his help. Black Mesa, though, was not just a one time event. The assassin knew that this had to be part of a larger scheme to remove the threats to the Combine starting with the first resistance Animus in Black Mesa and sooner or later coming to get the Piece of Eden in Clear Water. If Clear Water was to be attacked Julian wanted to be there with the Portal Device to even the odds.

Yuki watched the troops arrive from her wheelchair. It'd been little more than a day and already Clear Water had seen more than fifteen hundred men and women arrive ready and willing to fight beside Desmond and defend the base. She had to admit that the loyalty the man inspired was equal to, if not greater, than the respect her own Father had gained. She regretted then the words she had said to her Father, the harshness of her tone and the anger in her heart. Now he was likely being tortured at the hands of the Combine. Even a man of his intelligence and willpower could be broken by interrogation particularly when it was the insidious technocratic Combine doing the questioning.

Desmond stood nearby with his own set of thoughts regarding the troops that were coming in. Already several nearby bases had promised numbers in the low thousands but not nearly what he had hoped for. Many, he knew, would come anyway, just for the chance to see some action. Most other Resistance bases did their best to only strike against the Combine when it was necessary to get supplies, technologies or in self-defense. Clear Water had become such a base in the last few years though in its heyday it had launched several attacks including the infamous Battle of City 12. That liberation effort had been the crowning success of the Resistance. An army of nearly sixty thousand had swarmed the city and taken it back from the Combine. Now City 12 was a Resistance base contributing only nine hundred soldiers to Clear Water. Desmond shook his head.

"It will not be enough," he mused to himself though loud enough for Yuki to hear.

"We'll have to wait. It will take at least a week for the full number to arrive, if not longer."

"I doubt it will number more than fifteen thousand," Desmond said despondently, "half of what we need if we even want to stand a chance."

"You honestly think the Combine will march against fifteen thousand of us?"

"They ended the self-defense attempts of armies around the globe in seven hours Yuki. Perhaps you were too young at the time to remember. In Seven Hours the human race was broken."

"We'd already been fighting aliens, those they sent to weaken our defenses, those brought here from the border world."

"We can't allow them to win," Desmond said, "If we die the human race will have no hope."

"What about the European Resistance? I heard that in City 17 they have some scientists from the original Black Mesa working to fight the Combine."

"It doesn't matter," Desmond sighed, "I have a feeling we're all doomed."

"Don't say that," Yuki scolded, "These men look to you as a leader and an inspiration, if they see you with such hopelessness, they will truly be unable to win."

"Than I will have to be alone in my darkness," Desmond said.

"No," Yuki reminded him with a pat on the hand, "Not alone."

Julian approached the telepad tentatively. It seemed truly out of place sitting on the roadside in the middle of the desert appearing like little more than a circular phone booth. He was tired, having had almost no sleep back in zombie town. The sun was already on its way up. The assassin fought off his fatigue and stepped within the glass. A whirring noise began immediately and Julian thought it an initialization of whatever technological principle made the device work. The assassin took out the code that Michael had written and diligently typed it out on the digital keypad in front of him. He pressed enter and a bright green flash seemed to emanate from the ceiling of the booth spiraling around his body.

Julian realized then that something was definitely wrong as the whirring became deafening and the Piece of Eden started to glow in its pouch. The assassin's suntanned skin bleached white when he saw the hazard symbol on the keypad before him. It was too late now, the sequence had already begun and Julian felt his body levitating above the floor. The swirling beams of energy flickered now, sending a jolt of electricity into him before, at last, he vanished.


	8. Chapter 8: Quantum Reflux

Chapter Eight: Quantum Reflux

The assassin lay still for a long while aware only by sight of his location changing again and again. It was as if the Piece of Eden had somehow interacted with the teleport and now he was part of some random quantum event sent screeching across the cosmos. At last he came to rest, his body at last able to move in a four dimensional space once more. But his eyes were quick to tell his mind that Earth had been left far behind him. The sky above was filled with flocks of strange flying creatures looking more like massive manta rays than birds and behind them the sky itself was painted purples and whites and greens with no stars flickering and no sun that could be seen.

Julian took in a tentative breath and found the air tolerable but light. He tried to stand but found the action much easier than he'd expected as if he'd cut through the air quicker, the friction lessened. He was distinctly aware that this location could not have existed on Earth. The ground beneath him seemed leathery and moist almost as if it was the hide of a living thing and all around him small pieces of rock and crystal floated in the air defying gravity and fading in and out of visibility as if slipping from one reality to another. The terrain was filled with rocky outcroppings and in the distant spires of rock rose into the air until they were so high and thin that even Julian's sharp eyes could not see their peak.

The assassin sat down again and let out a frustrated sigh. His plan had backfired and now if an attack from the Combine came directed at Clear Water the base would be washed away by the endless tide of Overwatch that would descend upon it. The portal gun and the technology they could gain from reverse engineering it would have proved invaluable to the Resistance cause and helped solidify them as a formidable equal to the Combine Overwatch. Julian stared up at the purple sky watching green mist swirl in the cosmic ether above and wondered if there might be a way back, if he might hitch a ride during some quantum event and slip into another reality himself. Perhaps even find himself in a world where the human race was at its peak again and the Combine had never invaded.

The thought left his mind as a familiar scent wafted into his nostrils. The spry assassin leapt up and unsheathed his saber turning sharp eyes on a dime to find the source of the smell - the smell of zombies. Julian saw it then, not a zombie but a head crab. The assassin took a throwing knife from his belt before the creature could catch on to his presence and skewered the thing to the ground. Julian recovered his knife and wiped it off, deciding he'd be more likely to find a way out if he kept moving.

The first thing he did was climb atop a nearby hill and try to get a lay of the land. The terrain spread out before him, hills and spires of rock rising every now and then from what appeared to be the same solid piece of material. It was as if every thing was one massive planetoid chunk. There was no dirt, it was all one piece. The assassin hated the ambiguity but decided it pointless to consider one direction better than another. He picked a spire and endeavored to head toward it.

There was no vegetation here it seemed, though stalks did seem to grow from the ground they were more like tendrils of some great beast buried into the rock than they were plant-like. Julian wandered on toward the spire noting that it never seemed to grow much closer no matter how maddeningly fast his feet could carry him in the nearly frictionless environment of this strange world. He'd heard of this place before, it had been from this realm that aliens had invaded Earth from before the arrival of the Combine, though its name escaped him. The original event that had sparked it all, the Black Mesa incident, had resulted in an influx of organisms from this border-realm, between nowhere and everywhere it seemed.

The hours seemed to blend together as the spire before him gradually came into view more clearly. It towered above the landscape more than a mile. The one nearest to it was bent and twisted in all sorts of ways but grew to nearly equal height despite taking twice as much length to get there. Julian had seen little signs of life and those he had seen had been head crabs. The assassin did have his bag with him, a backpack filled with extra ammunition and enough food and water to get him through two days. It was hardly enough to make the difference of survival here and when it ran out Julian wasn't looking forward to biting into a head crab.

As the assassin approached the base of the spire he noticed a faint rumbling in the ground around him. At first he suspected the wind which was quite strong along this flat stretch of ground but his eyes soon told him otherwise as the air a hundred feet in front of him split asunder. A blue light cut the sky and the assassin was diving for cover as a Combine dropship hovered dangerously close and passed overhead. Julian stood sure that he had not been spotted and clutching the Piece of Eden. He watched the dropship land and several weak looking and frail Vortigaunts get led from the back by a small group of Combine soldiers.

"Get us more of it!" one of the soldiers, an Elite, yelled kicking one of the Vortigaunts.

"We will not defile our homeworld!" A Vortigaunt spat before receiving a bullet to the head.

Julian rushed in now and lifted the Piece of Eden high freezing in horror when it did not light up or even have the desired effect of dropping the Combine soldiers dead. The assassin leapt for a nearby boulder as bullets sprayed in his direction. Cursing his luck the assassin grabbed his XM-8 and made sure the magazine was full before marking the directions his opponents were firing from and slipping from cover as they had to reload. One soldier, then two, then three fell to his quick bursts with the trigger, quick but DEADLY accurate. The assassin closed the distance with his last enemy who's AR2 had jammed, Julian ducked beneath the soldier's attempts to hit him with the rifle butt and stabbed his hidden blade into the man's stomach drawing it up like a surgical tool to cleave the man's chest and abdomen open, gore spilling from the gaping wound.

Julian stood over the corpses of the seven soldiers and turned his attention to the dropship which now was activating its turret defenses. The massive synth let out a deafening vocalization in protest before the bullets started to fly. Julian returned to his rock in a flash but even that was chipped and nicked as the heavy pulses of the dropship hit it. The assassin heard something as a breeze wafted by, a strange and melodic sound almost like chanting. Then came the clap of thunder and a green flash illuminated the area. The bullets stopped firing then and the assassin dared to peek out from behind his hiding place to see the Vortigaunts taking turns shocking the turrets in order to keep them shorted out. The dropship lifted itself off now and before long it had returned through the portal it had arrived.

"You didn't have to do that," Julian said, "but thank you."

"You saved us human and for that we are grateful," one Vortigaunt said.

"What is your name young one?" Another asked.

"Julian, Julian Miles. I suppose that would be the Julian Miles to you."

"Come Julian," one vort said surprising the lad by not using the before his name, "We must go, nightfall is coming to Xen, there will be many dangers about."

"Many dangers," another agreed, "And the Combine will be back before long and in greater enumeration. We must find shelter the Julian Miles."

"We must rest," one explained, "and soon, for our enslavement on Earth was most taxing."

"And our attack on the turret has drained us."

"We will find shelter."

The Vortigaunts led him to a cave about a half a mile from the spire, one filled with small green sprites that seemed to dance in the air. The vorts attempted to explain them as some sort of phenomenon tied to their energy field, something Julian had heard them speak of before called the vortessence. It was this field from which they gained their electricity. Julian was truly glad to have found some trustworthy companions on this alien world and he didn't feel at all uneasy about falling asleep. His mind needed the rest if it was to escape the borderworld alive.

Yuki opened her one good eye and studied the room around her. It hadn't been long since her injury but already her vision had entirely returned in that eye. The other remained dark but this did nothing to quench the indomitable spirit within her. She was every bit her Father's daughter, strong on the inside though appearing just a young woman on the outside. And she was young by the standards of humanity. Under the Combine with the suppression field there was no new generation to be born. Many who were children during the Combine invasion did not survive to tell the tale but thanks to her Father, then a military man in the Japanese Navy, she had the tools for survival in the harshest of circumstances.

She was now involved directly in setting up Clear Water's defenses for a possible attack and coordinating the efforts of the five thousand Resistance soldiers who'd arrived from various bases, strongholds and safe houses across the continent. It was a meager number considering the odds they were likely to face. Reports had been coming in from the thirteen North American Combine Cities that soldiers there were mounting an offensive with Citadels across the country lit up. Yuki knew that what the Combine had attacked with at Black Mesa was just a fraction of what the Empire could truly summon up. If human Combine soldiers failed she knew that there were vast worlds filled with alien life forms ready and willing to die for the glory of the Combine. Still she was hopeful. The five thousand that had arrived at Clear Water was less than half of what they were promised and probably less than a third of what they would get.

She put on her eye patch, a symbol of honor in her mind, and stepped out onto the balcony watching the troops testing out a new device for bringing down Striders. It was an idea they'd borrowed from their European cousins and altered for their own use. They'd heard about a Black Mesa scientist who used a bomb that needed to be shot in order to bring the Strider down but they'd managed to build a sticky bomb of their own fired from a rocket launcher that detonated on impact with twice the force of the average RPG or bazooka round.

With at least five hundred of the specialized stick-RPGs assembled Yuki had to wonder if the Combine knew what they were getting themselves into. Rumors were already spreading like wild fire that the Resistance in Europe was striking some major blows, that perhaps even a Citadel had been attacked directly. This had the entire Resistance in a tizzy and even Yuki, who knew the odds of the coming confrontation didn't bode well, could not deny the excitement in the air. Perhaps, she thought, victory was not so far off.

Desmond looked up to where she stood on the balcony and offered her a smile. He was very pleased with the way the rounds worked and finally understood why Striders had never been much use against Black Mesa base over the years. The man's attention turned now to notice a woman storming onto the field, a woman he'd not ever expected to see again.

"General Cartwright!" Desmond said with surprise in his voice as the woman gave him a firm handshake. She was younger than he was by at least ten years though her face seemed even younger than that, "You haven't aged a bit."

"Bullshit," she spat.

"Same sour cunt I know and love," Desmond joked.

"You ran scared from your last battle Miles," she protested, "If anyone is a pussy here it's you."

"Fair enough I suppose," Desmond said with a laugh, "What brings you all the way here from Summer Fall?"

"Battle of course," she said punching him on the shoulder, "The Combine barely have any presence up where we are. City 6 has less than a thousand Overwatch left in it. Citizens are all but wiped out thanks to some shit that got into the water."

"I thought the Combine drugged the water," Desmond said.

"Us too, but I guess something else got in there, killed damn near everybody. Anyway we heard about what happened to poor old Yakamoto and then heard your distress call."

"We're not in distress yet," Desmond clarified.

"That is like you, crying for Momma before the wolf even arrives," she joked, "Well Momma's here Desmond and she's mighty pissed."

"Good, we can use that anger when the Combine arrives Amber."

"That's General Cartwright to you soldier."

"But I outrank you."

"Fuck off."

"Same old sour cunt," Desmond laughed again as his old friend returned to her troops to give them their orders. He was glad to see her though he'd always found her a very colorful and flamboyant woman he had to admit she had a knack for unorthodoxy on the battlefield as well. She brought with her an unpredictability that could give them the edge if and when the fight came to them.

Julian watched as the seven Vortigaunts aligned themselves around the strange golden crystal and began their chant. He felt truly out of place here deep within the strange cave the vorts had led him too. They had told him of the crystal's ability to restore their connection to the vortessence but the assassin felt as it he was intruding being in that clearly sacred place as the ceremony unfolded. The eye of each Vortigaunt took on a pale indigo illumination and a sound like thunder spilled into Julian's mind as if emanating from within and not from any external stimuli. Orbs of light filled with the room with color now splitting apart into even smaller particles and colliding with the vorts shrinking down into infinitesimal specks. Then there was silence.

"Incredible," Julian said with awe written on his face.

"We are now more attuned to the energies of the vortessence," one vortigaunt said, "We can now return to our camp."

"We shall gather food along the way if we can find it," another said, "To restore your own strength."

The Vortigaunts led him from the cave down the winding and often narrow passages. For most people it would have been a cramped and claustrophobic journey but the assassin wasn't bothered at all by it. He was trained to move in close quarters and tight spaces and he found it fairly easy to follow the vorts out and into the open expanse of the world he now knew was called Xen.

They made their way from the mouth of the cave carefully navigating the often treacherous landscape until they came to a massive pit. The Vortigaunts signaled for the assassin to stop and he did only then noticing the coiled creature at the base of the pit. Julian turned to them and they gestured their fingers across the dirt to denote walking and then pressed a finger to their mouths. The assassin understood and spotted a pile of meat beside the slumbering monster. Silently he crept forward and found a place where he could gain footing and slip silently into the pit.

The creature was huge and covered in thick green hide that seemed more like rock than flesh. It was as wide as two men and at least fifty feet in total length though Julian cared little about finding out its true measurements. He lifted the meat up, its slimy texture unlike any flesh he'd ever seen or touched, and leapt from the pit. Then it happened, the ground shook and the assassin spun back to see the Tentacle coming straight for him, its massive black beak aimed to crack his skull. He fell back to the ground and kicked up as it was over top of him managing to send its head up far enough to scurry out of its reach and over to the Vortigaunts who were eager to leave now that the beast was awakened.

They ran making a mad dash for their distant cave. Julian was far ahead of the bunch hoping to get the meat cooked up and ready as quickly as he could, his stomach growling. He had decided to give his rations to the Vortigaunts due to their weakness after the battle and it'd been almost two days since his arrival on Xen though time seemed impossible to tell on the bizarre borderworld. Julian had to mark the path ahead of him carefully for a wrong turn could take him off the edge of the world. He'd already nearly made that mistake the night before when in a somnambulant attempt to relieve himself he'd nearly fallen into the void below. The Vortigaunts had explained that Xen was a fragmented dimension pulled thin between the worlds upon worlds that made up the Universe. It was everywhere and nowhere.

At last the assassin made it to the cave hoping that the vorts weren't far behind and finding himself perplexed as to what he could use as fuel for a fire. The vorts provided an answer when they arrived a few minutes later and used their electricity discharges to char the meat enough to make it edible. It was far from tasty and even the Vortigaunts could barely keep it down. They identified it as bullsquid meat though the name meant little to Julian, the taste said it all. It was truly awful. Survival was the mission though and food back on Earth was hardly luxurious for the Resistance. Julian found himself wondering what the Administrators of the Combine Cities got to eat imagining they could get almost anything they desired for selling their fellow human beings into slavery to the Combine.

A wave of urgency hit Julian then. He needed to find a way back to Earth.

Michael watched the campfire flicker and imagined himself far away from where he was. He pictured himself on a beach somewhere and though he thought it a bit appropriate considering his age he wondered if Allison would look good in a bikini. She certainly had the figure for that. He cast the impure thought from his mind assuring himself that Allison would not be interested in an old man like him if and when the suppression field would fall. He wondered whether Julian had made it into the facility safely and if he would ever see the young assassin again.

Michael planned to have them move in the morning having had enough of being so close by the Combine factory. He stood and tossed a bucket of water on the fire letting the predawn light adjust his eyes. The adjustment brought newfound alertness to his surroundings and the man found his camp was crawling with Combine. Ever the wily one he grabbed his shotgun and opened up unloading a shell at the nearest soldier and watching blood splatter in the tall grass.

A shadow moved at the corner of his vision and he turned his attention toward it firing off another three shotgun shells from his Spaz but unable to hit the speedy target. Like a wraith she approached him with green eyes glimmering in the dull light of the fire's dying coals.

"Allison! Wherever you are RUN!" Michael called out "Run and don't look back."

"Relax my pet," the shadowy woman said, "we've already gotten all the information we need from Subject 27. It's you we want to talk to."

"You'll never take me alive!" Michael shouted lifting his glove and squeezing off a dark energy blast that evaporated a nearby Elite but before he could charge another he felt cold steel against his throat.

"We will be taking you alive," the female creature promised and Michael found himself quite unwilling to disagree.

Allison crouched in the grass in horror unable to move, unable to follow Michael's orders, as her closest friend was cuffed and taken away. She turned away in despair and let her feet carry her forward toward the setting sun. Her hands trembled as they swung at her sides and she cursed herself for abandoning him. She wondered if there was anyone in the wide world who could help her and her mind suddenly remembered a young man dressed in strange robes. Though she could not remember his name she knew that he was her best bet for saving Michael. She held on to that thought and hoped her mind would not lose it as it seemed to do so often.

Julian watched a flock of strange creatures fly to and fro in the sky and found himself wishing to be free of this peculiar prison. The Vortigaunts had assured him that when the Combine opened a portal he would have a way out but thus far no one had been sent to Xen. Without a portal he was stuck here between nowhere and somewhere. He took a swig of some strange water the vorts had brought him. It wasn't the best tasting water he'd ever had but it did well enough to wash the taste of left over bullsquid from his tongue. How badly the assassin longed to see the Earth again and set foot on familiar ground and see familiar faces. The face he most longed to see, to his surprise, was his Father's. He wanted to offer the man a sincere apology for stealing the Piece of Eden.

Julian stepped outside the cave and walked along the precarious edge of the world. He needed the fresh air to clear his mind. The vorts had insisted he stay inside while they ventured out to get more food but the assassin hardly had any intention of staying the squalid cave all day with the smell of bullsquid stinking it up. A sudden thud stole the assassin from his thoughts and sent his eyes looking in every direction. It seemed to be coming from the cave only a hundred yards away. The assassin saw it then, the massive creature lumbering toward the cave clearly enticed by the smell of flesh within.

It was huge, green and blue with a strange exoskeleton like appearance and nearly twenty feet in height with heavy thundering steps and a massive red eye. Its gaping maw was like a beak as it bent to grab at the bullsquid meat in the cave and lifted a chunk of it to its mouth. Its jaws tore at the lump of flesh before swallowing it down. A powerful roar left its lips that seemed to occupy every pitch from high and low to in-between at once. The earsplitting sound sent the assassin to the ground gripping his ears.

Julian prepared his gun as the towering demon turned its attention to him and came up the hill with slow determined steps. The spry assassin fired off the first rounds of the confrontation each shell hitting harmlessly against its carapace. Julian felt his heart rising in his throat as he spent the entire magazine with no effect other than entertaining enraged thoughts within the creature's primal mind. The creature's eye seemed to glow then and with a stomp of its feet a column of crimson flame jumped from the ground toward Julian. The assassin stood perplexed for a moment as he dodged the fiery projection reloading his XM-8 all the while.

The assassin changed his mind though and instead lifted the Piece of Eden but once again the device seemed idle and refused to answer the insistently pleading to vanquish the gargantuan beast. Julian pocketed the Piece and took out his rifle moving as far away from the creature as he could before opening fire again. The bullets once again glanced off without leaving so much as a scratch on the surface of the creature's outer hide. It stomped toward him now with each step sending off a fire ball toward him. The assassin found himself bobbing between balls of flame as quick as he could all the while moving backwards away from the creature which now was attempting to close the distance.

Julian looked back as the massive monster sprinted toward him and for once the assassin knew he had no real means of escaping such a foe without injury. He tried to shake it, even tried to lead the green giant off of the edge of the world to no avail. So the assassin attempted to make it back to the cave hoping to find some help from the Vortigaunts in killing or at least deterring the deadly denizen of Xen. Already the creature seemed to be slowing a bit and the assassin was luckily able to stay ahead of it enough to scope the terrain and avoid pitfalls and dead ends.

Finally the cave seemed in reach and the creature was left far behind. Julian was sure that it wasn't even on his tail anymore before he stopped to catch his breath and made out the figure lumbering toward him from the mouth of the cave. The massive green creature opened its claws and fire spit from them catching at the assassin's robes and sending him rolling to the ground to put it out. He managed to do so quickly before sustaining any real injury but his massive enemy had his foot up over top of him and the assassin felt his back crushed by an incredible weight. Julian began to slip from consciousness then trying his best to stay awake and to wrestle his saber from its sheath. Again the foot slammed into his spine but this time all went dark.

"Where is your assassin friend," Theta Dark asked twirling her blade to and fro.

"I don't know," Michael said and he felt the hilt of her sword smash into the side of his face already covered in bruises and bloody.

"I assure you that your friend, Subject 27 will be found and killed if you do not help us.

"Her name is Allison," Michael corrected, "you Combine bitch!"

"Tell us what we want to know," she said coldly holding the sharpened blade less than an inch from his face, "or we bleed you dry."

"I told you already I don't know!" Michael lied.

"Your deception is dually noted," the dark assassin replied slicing a deep cut into the man's face and leaving the room.

Michael felt the warmth of his own blood crawling down his face and put his head down in a despondent slump. He couldn't betray Julian but he couldn't stand the thought of them hurting Allison again after what they'd already done to her. His conflicted heart wasn't helped by the physical pain they inflicted him with and the darkness they left him alone to contemplate in. He knew it was only a matter of time before they broke him, whether by these old fashioned techniques or by the insidious methods of technological and chemical interrogation the Combine had come to be known for. If by ratting out Julian he could save Allison and perhaps even himself he considered it a fair trade. The assassin would have to handle himself he decided and with guilt in his heart he called out for Theta Dark to enter the room once more.

Julian didn't know how long he'd been out - he didn't even recall the events that had put him in such pain. The agony coursed through his broken body as his eyes, blinded by pain and barely able to comprehend his surroundings, opened. The cavern ceiling seemed miles above him, spires of rock danced down from it and an eerie blue light seemed to bathe the entire chamber. The assassin was acutely aware of others in the room with him, their presence betrayed by the faint sound of whispers that echoed. It wasn't until a few moments later that he realized they were carrying him.

The Vortigaunts looked down at him with grim expressions and lowered him into an abnormal blue liquid. The alien fluid rushed over his skin filling his spirit with electricity and his lungs with breath. The assassin fell from consciousness again.

Julian awoke fully submerged in the strange liquid. Despite being under the tranquil azure fluid his lungs did not fail to bring in oxygen. The agony that had wracked his body in those few seconds he'd regained consciousness before now seemed entirely absent from his bones. It was as if the strange fluid had mended him, rebuilt his body and renewed his energy. The assassin watched the faces of the Vortigaunts above the somewhat shallow healing pool and felt their hands reach down to pull him back. Despite having no issue breathing beneath Julian took an instinctual gasp of air as he surfaced and the seven Vortigaunts helped him from the pool and brought him a towel to dry himself off and his clothing for when he was dry. The assassin was soon back in his robes and he found himself sitting by the pool regarding the strange liquid and the light that seemed to shimmer within it.

"It is a repository of healing energy," a vortigaunt explained, "your body was quite broken, and if we had not brought you here you would not have survived."

"How long was I out?"

"It took us a day to carry you here and you were submerged beneath the pool for another two Earth days."

"Thank you for saving me," Julian replied with a sincere smile.

"You did the same for us Julian," one said, "Now come, we have quite a walk back."

As they made their way across Xen Julian found himself reflecting on the selfless act of the Vortigaunts. Admittedly this was their world and they could have easily coped with survival here without his assistance and yet they had traveled for a day to place him within the healing pool. He would surely have been dead, lost to the oblivion of nothingness, if it hadn't been for them. Now he had a chance again, if he could find a portal, to return to his world.

Julian lie awake in the cave that night and wondered if Clear Water had been attacked yet and if the base could stand up to a full on Combine assault without the Piece of Eden. Even with the enigmatic device Julian was sure the Combine would crush them, though the assassin still had hope to stand beside his Father if it came to annihilation. Julian cast the idea of defeat from his mind then and there. He'd come too far and been through too much to give up hope. His resurrection from near-death could not be in vain.

The assassin felt odd then as if eyes were on him though the Vortigaunts were on the other side of the cave flash-cooking a head crab over a fire. The figure seemed quite immaterial when it first appeared to him though slowly the blue suited tall figure became as real as the assassin believed himself to be.

"Don't tell me you're the grim reaper come to collect my soul," the assassin said half joking to the strange apparition.

"I can assure you young Mister Miles that I am nothing of the sort," the G-Man said with a smarmy grin on this thin lips, "I have come across worlds to get back an item which belongs to me."

"And that would be?"

"Do not play stupid Mister Miles. I seek the Piece of Eden."

"It belongs to my Father, not to you."

"Wrong I'm afraid. It is a token of my desire for the human race to free itself, unfortunately your Father kept it far longer than he was meant to and now I need it back. If you do decide to hand it over I might be able to offer you safe passage back to Earth."

"What about them?" Julian asked pointing to the Vortigaunts who seemed on the defensive at the appearance of the man.

"They live on this world already," G-Man protested, "They would do no better on Earth. Now, do we have a deal?"

"It doesn't work anymore anyway," Julian agreed handing the device to the G-Man.

"That is because one as weak as you is using it," The G-Man assured, "And because here on Xen the energy it uses is very scarce. Come now, let's get back to Earth."

Julian leapt at the man as he turned thinking to take back the Piece of Eden but he felt suddenly stiff and orange flame danced around his body. He watched the G-Man turn with a sickening grin on his face and the Piece of Eden held high.

"Big mistake," the G-Man hissed, "The Combine are on their way but you will be dead before you can take advantage of their portal."

The Vortigaunts began to chant and green lightning leapt from their hands to strike at the G-Man. Their chanting seemed to almost be hurting him and his face contorted in anger as he faded from view. Julian fell to the cave floor and thanked the vorts before rushing from the cavern.

The G-Man had been right, the Combine had opened a portal and Julian seized his opportunity shooting off a few rounds at the soldiers as he slipped into the shimmering tear in time and space and vanished once more.


	9. Chapter 9: Unforeseen Allies

Chapter Nine: Unforeseen Allies

Julian felt his mind and body become nothing, felt everything he was being torn from one place to another and then finally land with a thud on a solid metallic telepad. He glanced up suddenly instinctually aware of the danger as blurred forms swirled around him. Even with his vision still so clouded by the tumult of being teleported he could tell these were Combine Elites, not just typical Overwatch. He sprung into action as his vision cleared, dipping low to avoid their already firing assault weapons and lunging across the chamber to gouge at the kneecap of the nearest Elite with his hidden blade.

His saber came out then severing sinew, muscle and nicking bone as he sliced at another Soldier's leg. A bullet whizzed past his head, another grazed his side coming dangerously close to shattering a rib. Julian steeled himself against the pain which had momentarily threatened to cause him to blackout. He spun on the soldier launching two throwing knives, one crunching into the Elite's chest and the other spinning horizontally and slicing the soldier's throat. He needed to keep moving while he was throwing though and he now only had seven throwing knives remaining. He rushed the next soldier round-house kicking the Elite to knock him off balance before spinning with his saber to open the soldier's throat.

A Stalker, its sickly pale flesh hanging and red-cybernetic eye glowing, let out a hiss at the intruding assassin firing a laser across the expanse. Julian couldn't see the laser but he could feel it as it singed through his assassin robe and burnt a deep line in his back. He spun lifting his pistol and firing, the bullet spun on its ballistic path burrowing into the laser-eye apparatus of the Stalker leaving the beast alive but helpless.

The assassin was injured but he had no time to think of the pain, he was still dodging the AR2 Pulse fire of three more Elites. He rushed over the Stalker grabbing the grotesque testament to Combine cruelty and used it as a shield guiding himself to the corpse of a soldier where he could recover the fallen Elite's weapon. Julian, now fully even with them in his eyes lifted the AR2 amazed when the Elite's began firing on the Stalker. Julian dived out of the way smart enough to know the Pulse bullets would penetrate the flesh of the Stalker quite easily. As he dove the Elite's tried to adjust their sights to kill him but Julian had anticipated all this and the soldiers had barely even shifted their positions. Seven AR2 rounds later Julian was alone in the room save on shadowy figure he'd hardly taken notice of due to its feminine figure. He lifted his rifle toward it now hoping it wasn't a super-assassin of the Combine's making.

"Don't fuck with me," the assassin growled, "Show yourself."

The woman stepped out and left Julian scratching his head. She was ordinary, just a typical woman of Caucasian skin coloration with ruby red hair and probably in her late forties. The assassin felt a wave of pain shock its way through his body and dropped the rifle to his side.

"You're hurt?" The woman asked.

"Just a bit," the assassin replied grunting as he tried to stand. The pain was too much though and Julian felt the world closing in around him.

"Don't worry," the woman said reassuringly helping the assassin to his feet, "I won't let them take you. My name is Judith by the way, Judith Mossman. You're hurt pretty bad. I better get you to med-lab."

"Won't that be crawling with Combine?" Julian reminded, though he was fading in and out of consciousness.

"That won't be a problem if I can get you out of those robes and into a Combine soldier's uniform. If only I could find one that wasn't splattered with blood."

"Sorry about that," Julian laughed, though laughing exacerbated the pain in his rib, as the woman sat him down against a computer terminal.

Shephard and his forces proceeded silently through the trees. The scouts for Clear Water had recently reported the beginnings of the Combine gathering its forces. Already the scouts had brought in images of thousands being gathered, an estimated twenty thousand Combine soldiers in the first wave alone. Desmond had estimated the entire Combine force that would come at them to be nearly twice that. Clear Water stood little chance against such odds if they did nothing on the offensive and merely hid in their holes. That was why Shephard had been given this mission.

The Colonel and his regiment of men were to take up a position in the forests outside of Clear Water and stage an ambush after the majority of the Combine forces had marched right past them. This strike from behind would distract the Combine and allow two other strikes, from either side, to be coordinated. General Cartwright was to lead the other two strikes with two regiments of her own. Such a maneuver was the only chance that Clear Water had. Only eight thousand troops had arrived thus far and those included the remaining force that had existed before the Coldwind debacle. More were still coming in every day but the scouts had assured them that the assault on Clear Water could begin at any time. Even with a force twice the size of the one they had their odds would not be one to one against the Combine. Clear Water had only one wave, only one combined force that would, hopefully, number near twelve thousand before the battle but the Combine could muster multiple waves numbering twice that.

Shephard had seen a lot in his time, he'd even been there on the day it all went to Hell. He'd missed the Seven Hour War, spared his likely death by an unlikely ally, a strange man in a suit. At least he thought it had been a man. Adrian had believed his strange ally a government agent at first thought now, years after his last encounter with the pale apparition in the blue suit, he made no assumptions as to who or what spared his life.

It mattered little now, the Colonel realized, there would be no salvation from angelic beings or government agents. There would be no salvation unless he could bleed it out of the Combine one bullet at a time.

Julian opened his eyes and guided them around the room. It was small, more a cell than a bedroom, and his heart began racing wondering if the woman who'd found him had betrayed him. He looked down at his body noting that he was wearing a Combine soldier's undergarments - this only confused him more until he saw the woman, Judith, sitting across from him in a chair reading a book quietly.

"Good, you're awake," she said with a smile, "How do you feel?"

"Somewhere between agony and holy shit this hurts," Julian replied getting himself into a sitting position.

"That's good," Judith said, "it was a bit difficult explaining to them why you didn't have any of the scars from the experimental brain surgery they usually do on Elites."

Julian panicked, his hands going to his scalp to search for cuts and scars and though he found none he did note that they had shaved off all of his hair down to brown stubble.

"Did they recover my weapons?"

"No, I have them here in my chest," Judith remarked gesturing toward the small locked chest she had atop her dresser.

"Where, exactly, am I?"

"City 17, what used to be Estonia."

"Damn I wish I knew more about geography," Julian said trying to stand up. Though each step was painful he found it easier than he expected.

"You will need to hide here," Judith said, "Until I can figure out how to teleport you out of here. By the way, how do you tunnel through to Xen?"

"I'm an assassin lady, not a scientist, it was some kind of interaction with a device I was carrying and the teleport that was supposed to take me to Aperture Science."

"You were headed to Aperture Science labs?" Judith asked with eyes wide.

"You know about Aperture science?"

"They were our rivals at Black Mesa before the incident," Judith explained and this time it was Julian's eyes who went wide.

"You're part of the original Black Mesa science team," Julian stated more than asked, "You were there on that day just like Adrian Shephard and Gordon Freeman."

"You know about Freeman?" Judith asked whispering when she heard the sound of Combine footsteps thundering down the hall.

"I know he's supposed to be a big hero."

"Indeed he is," Judith explained, "In fact he's recently returned. It's odd that when I saw him again he didn't seem at all different from the way Eli and Izzy described him, as if he didn't age at all. Either way he's certainly adding to the Resistance around here and is supposedly leading a push toward this very Citadel right now."

"I'm in a Citadel?" Julian replied with a roll of his eyes, "Great, just great. Look, I'd really love to stay and discuss things with you, maybe even meet this Freeman guy I've heard so much about but I have to get back to my Father and to the base in Clear Water Kansas. The Combine will be attacking there any day and I'd like to be there to help WITH this portal gun thing Aperture Science was working on."

"I'll see what I can do to get you there," Judith promised, "in the meantime stay in here and keep the door locked and keep quiet."

"Ma'am, you're talking to an assassin, quiet is what we do best."

"Really, I thought it was killing," Judith chided with a grin."

"Fair enough," Julian agreed with a smile as Judith slipped from the room. The assassin locked the door behind her and felt more than a little nervous about spending any amount of time in the heart of a Combine Citadel.

Yuki walked around the room as best she could, it was a stilted gait but there was very little pain. The healing the Vorts had done had done wonders for her and the doctors at Clear Water had removed any remaining shrapnel. The healing was remarkable and all the doctors assured her she would make a full recovery. The vision in her right eye had returned entirely and though the vision in her left eye would likely remain blurred forever she had been training to shoot straight even without full depth perception provided by two eyes.

Yuki knew though that permission to fight would be hard won with Desmond. The General had already stated to her in passing that he didn't want her on the battlefield. The man had allowed her some supervisory positions in the battle hoping that her Father's strategic knowledge would pay off and allow better coordination during the fighting. Yuki wasn't satisfied by the promise of being able to send Resistance fighters to their deaths, such was cowardice, hiding behind a control panel while sending the real soldiers to sweat and bleed on the battlefield. Yuki couldn't stomach such and yet she knew that Desmond would never allow her to fight in the battle.

She picked up her pistol and fired three rounds in rapid succession hitting each of the mock targets she'd set up in her room, merely paper cut outs of Combine soldiers. She hoped that this training wouldn't go to waist. She knew that if the Combine did penetrate into Clear Water fully Desmond would be more likely to issue an evacuation than to risk being captured, the knowledge stored within the Resistance computers had already been transferred to external drives so that the self-destruct could be used annihilating the data while the back-up escaped safely with an evacuation convoy. Even if the Combine made their way into the facility her chances of seeing any action were slim. She gritted her teeth and headed for Desmond's office hoping he would see it her way.

Julian stepped out into the hallway dressed fully as a Combine Elite soldier. Judith walked in front of him carrying a satchel containing all his personal items. The two moved nonchalantly through the Citadel coming at last to a lift that would take them to the teleport chamber. They had to move quickly, the next Combine patrol was due in a few moments and the teleportation had to be completed before the shift change if they were to have a shot. The lift screeched to a halt and they rushed toward the terminal. Julian eyed a Stalker at the far end of the room but soon realized it was the one he had damaged only two days earlier. The Combine hadn't even done a good job repairing the pitiful creature using off-color skin patches to fix the bullet wounds. The assassin resisted the urge to put the tortured former human out of its misery once and for all as Judith worked feverishly at the terminal punching in the correct coordinates.

"I don't know the exact location of Aperture Labs," she protested, "so I need you to punch in the coordinates of the telepad you found in New Mexico."

Julian rushed to the terminal and did his best to find the telepad on the sat-map. Judith punched in the correct codes and initiated the power-up sequence. The teleport squealed and whirred as it began its start-up and Julian turned as the Stalker began to hiss in his direction. The assassin dove out of the way of the recently replaced laser on the Stalker's eye and fired off a shot from his silenced USP pistol to take it out once more.

"How much longer?" Julian asked removing his Combine helmet.

"About a minute at least," Judith explained, "This will be the first time we've ever used this to teleport locally."

The assassin took a deep breath as the sequence finalized and the telepad lowered itself. He took a tentative step on watching the Combine soldiers flood the room and catching the satchel containing his robes and weapons as Judith tossed them. With a mocking salute the assassin stepped into the telepad and the force field around it enabled. A swirling mass of pink of green luminosity danced before his eyes as he was once again disassembled.

Julian resurfaced about four hundred yards from the telepad careening through a tear in time and space to hit the desert floor and kick up dust. The tear closed immediately after allowing the assassin to loosen the grip on his weapons and get back into his typical assassin robes. He decided, however, to leave elements of the Combine armor under his robes hoping they would give him the edge in a confrontation if any Combine did indeed decide to tunnel through to his location or if the Aperture Science labs were inhabited by hostile forces. The assassin put little faith in the Combine armor though knowing that it typically did very little to impede bullets or blades at least in comparison with the HEV suit.

Julian stepped onto the telepad a few moments later punching in the code Michael had given him and soon once again becoming immaterial and vanishing from existence. The assassin was reborn in an instant. At first he believed he hadn't actually traveled anywhere for the telepad beneath him was the same size and shape as the other but this one had the tell-tale signs of weathering more so than the desert telepad and the air around him was humid and chill. He looked around him noting the thin mist that clung to the ground and the fact that he could see his breath.

"Somewhere North," he announced to himself with a sigh.

The building was directly in front of him vines and trees growing up from all around seeming to consume the artificial structure. It was as if the forest reclaimed it. The assassin searched around for any signs of life finding no prints of any kind before heading toward the door, the glass, despite years of sitting in a post-apocalyptic world, was immaculate with neither scratch nor smudge. Julian thought it a pity as he pulled out his crowbar and smashed his way into the facility. He would have little time to find the portal device and get back to Clear Water if he hoped to make a difference in the fight.

"I don't understand why you want let me fight sir," Yuki said stifling her anger as best she could.

"You're injured for one," Desmond started, "and we could use you in the command center."

"My Father is in a Combine prison right now," Yuki reminded him, "and I would like to get my fair share of vengeance."

"You will," Desmond assured her, "I have my strategists drawing up plans for an assault on a Combine prison - if we can learn where your father is being kept we might be able to mount a counter offensive."

"But what about the battle at hand?"

"I'm the leader of the entire Resistance," Desmond explained, "I can't think just of the battle at hand and I have to be prepared for all eventualities. If we stand firm here and beat back the Combine OR if we evacuate with most of our force intact we will have an opportunity to strike back and possibly to get your Father. If you get hurt, get killed, in this battle what will we tell the General when we rescue him? That we let his wounded daughter fight just because she wanted petty vengeance for a man who's still alive."

"You don't know he's alive!" Yuki yelled for the first time losing her temper.

"The Combine wouldn't be dumb enough to kill so valuable an asset," Desmond reminded her though he knew her reaction had been one of emotion, "I want you here with me."

"Very well sir."

Julian was used to working in the darkness but the depth of the shadows within the Aperture Science Research Facility went far beyond those he'd encountered before. There was something about the darkness that seemed to grab at him like the vines and roots that dominated the floors and walls of every hallway corridor and room he passed through on his way into the depths of the facility. The stairwells were equally consumed by vegetation as if nature had truly reclaimed this facility.

The assassin felt truly unsettled as he passed by a set of labs with the lights still on inside. He smashed his way through one door only to find the room eerily empty. The second lab he checked wasn't empty, the ghoulish remains of a scientist was inside still seated at his computer as if locked in research for eternity. Several more of the rooms held the all but mummified cadavers of the staff. It was as if their decomposition had been rapidly sped up by their exposure to some unseen environmental factor. Julian came to wonder with paranoia brewing in his brain if the plants that lined the walls were not some escape genetic aberration that would attempt to make him share the fate of the science team.

Julian made his way down to the lowest basement level he could access. The stairs went lower but all the doors down there were high-security doors sealed completely and each weighing likely half a ton. There was little he could have done to budge them and the control panels on each, while strangely still having power to them and lighting up, required an access code he didn't have. He made his way down the nearest corridor hoping to find a working elevator or other stairwell to carry him to the depths of the facility. The assassin noted the foul odor filling the rooms, the smell of dirt and decay left stagnant for years. None of what he found seemed to yield any clues as to the disaster that had befallen Aperture Science.

The assassin froze in place as the lights above him flickered to life. His eyes attuned quickly to the new brightness but he soon found he was not alone in the halls. Something which seemed to be a human figure staggered from one of the rooms ahead. Julian upholstered his silenced pistol and strode forward toward the now stationary figure. He made it close enough to determine it was a female though her bulky torso did leave the assassin perplexed. He wondered if it was some kind of body armor as he inched his way toward the enigmatic woman. The thought crossed his mind that he might be seeing a ghost and though not prone to superstition Julian couldn't help but feel a cold chill down his spine.

His questions were answered a moment later as the figure raised a weapon and began firing off rounds in his direction. The spry assassin leapt through the glass of a nearby lab leaving shards sticking from his armor but managing to avoid any serious cuts in the process. He took out his XM-8 realizing that only then that he had spent his last magazine in his mad dash for the Combine portal back on Xen. Cursing his stupidity he lifted his pistol and leaned out the window.

"Don't shoot miss, don't shoot!" he yelled and for a moment it seemed the woman, ambling slowly toward the room he was cowering in, would indeed cease her hostility, "I mean you no harm. I'm here for a device you guys had been working on."

The woman opened fire once more, this time launching some kind of energy round, possibly comprised of plasma that leapt like lightning from the barrel of her gun. The assassin noted then that she wasn't actually holding a weapon, that her arm was indeed a weapon. It made sense then. Julian had wondered how such a young woman could be so deep in a facility filled with the dead. It didn't make sense for her to have spent twenty-one years there.

"You are trespassing on private, restricted, property," a robotic voice echoed down the hall from the android, "Please prepare for imminent death."

"Definitely not a ghost," Julian joked to himself, "but androids are fairly creepy nonetheless."

The assassin leapt from the window and dropped prone to the ground squeezing off nine rounds in rapid succession. Due to the speed of the maneuver and the still considerable distance of his target Julian noted that only seven rounds hit their mark tearing through artificial flesh before impacting against the metal endoskeleton of the security droid. Julian had to move quickly to avoid the bullets of the android that sped toward him now. Luckily it seemed the droid was a terrible shot, perhaps due to its targeting systems gradually diminishing in accuracy for the last twenty years. Julian didn't have time to contemplate the semi-fortuitous circumstances, regardless of bad aim the droid would prove potentially deadly.

The assassin took out his throwing knife and lifted his arm an action that aggravated his still sore ribs. He would have to be accurate if he hoped to disable the droid. He hurled the knife end over end and leapt out of the reach of an oncoming plasma bolt hearing the blade embed itself in the eye socket of the android. He watched the droid lift the blade from her face and toss it to the ground seemingly unimpeded.

She was getting close now and the assassin was running out of patience. He ran headlong toward her dodging bullets and energy bolts reaching the android with his saber lifted over his head. Down came the blade onto the androids head hitting with skull splitting force and embedding in the metal crease of the droid's skull. Fake blood now little more than uncalculating dust, sprayed out in an orange red cloud as the assassin pressed his pistol to the droids mouth and fired away. The droid fell over twitching as it hit the hallway tiles with a thud.

"You are not permitted in this sector."

Julian heard something as he raced down the hall hoping the damage he'd done would keep the android down long enough for him to escape. The faint whirring noise seemed innocuous enough at first, until he reached the end of the hall and opened the door to the stairwell. The pitter patter of metallic feet against the steel stairs sent chills down his spine.

"Not ghosts," Julian said reloading his pistol, "but definitely a pain in the ass."

"We've found something sir," one of Shephard's men said.

"What is it Samuelson, we have orders you know."

"I know sir, it's just, it's a girl," the Sergeant replied, "She claims her name is Allison and that she's a friend of Julian."

"Bring her here."

Shephard took measure of the young woman as his men escorted him into the small camp. The first thing that jumped out at his mind was just how young she looked. Her vibrant blue eyes told of youth and despite the scrapes and bruises across her face she still had perplexing beauty. The Colonel gestured for her to take a seat and had one of his men bring her some hot soup.

"You look like hell miss," Shephard said noticing how badly she was shaken up. Even now surrounded by soldiers she seemed on edge, her eyes darting to the cut through the shadows of pre-dawn as if her enemies would leap form them at any moment.

"I feel like it, sir," she started, "but honestly I can barely remember who I am half the time. I'm not sure I really care about my looks."

"Where are you from?"

"I don't know," she admitted, "but what I do know is that my friend was taken, my protector. The man who saved me from that hellhole at Coldwind, the Combine took him."

"Why?"

"They wanted to know something, something about an object Julian was carrying."

"You know Julian Miles?"

"Hardly, we've talked before, I think, I can hardly remember I-" Allison pressed her hands to her head as an agonizing wave of pain swept over her.

"Samuelson!"

"Yes sir?"

"Get this woman to Clear Water immediately, just you and a small group to escort her," Shephard commanded, "She needs medical attention and she just might know where Julian is. Make sure Desmond knows."

"Will do sir."

"And try to find out what in the hell she knows about Coldwind!"

Shephard didn't want to press the poor woman too hard but if she could unlock the secrets of Coldwind the Resistance could launch a counter-offensive against it. Already the words of Desmond had reached his ears that Coldwind had an entire room full of Animi working to probe the minds of slaves. This woman, Allison, could prove useful in any attempt Clear Water made after the battle. The wily Colonel even considered the possibility of launching the offensive during the battle at Clear Water. Coldwind certainly would be less defended during the attack. The possibilities swirled within his mind as he went about setting up the wilderness for the eventual ambush.

Julian stabbed his dagger into the red eye of the first crab-like turret-bot making sure that in its tirade of blind fire it took out several more of its brethren. To the assassin's surprise the facility had not sent any more humanoid security bots but instead an army of knee-high turrets with mobile spider-like limbs. The assassin had learned the hard way that these limbs were indeed very spider-like when one turret actually took to the ceiling and a bullet had grazed his ear.

Now the spry assassin leapt from droid to droid doing what he did best and trying to stay ahead of the gunfire. Luckily these little buggers were in just as much a state of disrepair as the rest of the facility and their legs often fell out from under them as they attempted to shift from floor to wall or wall to ceiling. It was little comfort for the hard pressed assassin as he attempted to avoid his imminent death.

His hidden blade had proved quite useful and was often all he needed to end the sight of a turret-bot and get the droids to exterminate one another in a fit of blind rage. Still he'd made little progress in finding his way deeper into the facility and none of the rooms he'd checked thus far had contained weapons of any kind or portal technology for that matter. Julian began to wonder if this entire thing wasn't some wild goose chase to get him killed.

He sprinted for the stairs once more making it down to the lowest level and bashing at the keypad in desperation as the clacking of metallic feet following him spurred his anger. As if by a miracle the hefty steel door in front of him opened, a waft of stale air hitting him as he slipped inside and shut the door behind him.

The room within was dark and though the assassin was trained for just such situations he found himself once again unable to shake the sensation of fear. He shuddered as if being watched by some unseen force as he made his way down the hall and into the next room. There he saw the hunched form of a man and in front of the unmoving figure was the thing he had come all this distance to get. The Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device.

"I'll be taking that," he said to what he assumed was a cadaver.

Julian nearly leapt from his skin as the man in the chair spun on him, his wild eyes and his skin so pale it was whiter than his teeth as he offered a toothy grin.

"You truly are your Father's son aren't you?" the man asked taking a closer look at Julian, "You've got your Mother's features a bit more than his I think."

"You've got me at a disadvantage."

"Not really Mister Miles," the man replied punching something in the computer terminal in front of him, "I am just an old man, frail and atrophy but you are a young virile assassin."

"Who are you old man?"

"My name is Warren Vidic," the old man explained, "I was a scientist working for Abstergo Industries before the Combine arrived."

"Abstergo, you were one of the bastards who invented the Animus weren't you!" Julian asked grabbing the man by the collar, "Goddamn, you're probably the one who gave the Combine the blueprints!"

"Calm down Mister Miles," Vidic begged, "Please, Abstergo is no more."

"What are you doing here at Aperture Science?"

"Aperture Science, like Abstergo was just a front for a larger organization, a knighthood of sorts."

"The Templars," Julian said, "I'm not stupid."

"Of course not Mister Miles," Vidic assured, "believe it or not the Templars are still around and believe it or not we are not trying to help the Combine rule the world."

"You're too proud for that I'm guessing, more interested in ruling the world for yourselves."

"In a way Mister Miles," Vidic replied, "We have infiltrated the Combine, there are many Civil Protection and Overwatch who are our people and are prepared, at my command, to fight back against their Combine counter-part."

"You Templars always were good at brain washing," Julian remarked, "But I didn't peg you for beating out the Combine in that regard."

"You have come for this device I imagine?" Vidic asked running his fingers over the portal gun.

"I want to use it against the Combine."

"I will give it to you, I will allow you to take it and use it but you must assure me of one thing."

"What is that?" Julian asked.

"That you will get the Piece of Eden your Father has into my hands," Vidic said his eyes growing wide with lust at the very mention of the device leaving his own lips.

"That won't be easy, my Father's base is currently under attack" Julian replied, "Why don't I just kill you now and take the damn thing."

"Because Mister Miles, that isn't in your nature," Vidic crooned, "You're kind, especially your family, is filled with honor and nobility and ideals. You truly embody the Creed."

"Than you should know the Creed permits me to kill you," Julian said with his hand drifting toward his pistol holster.

"There is also what I can offer," Vidic argued, "Your Father is going to be attacked at Clear Water, my sources have told me as much. We have men everywhere. I can have them turn on their fellow Combine soldiers. All I need to do is give the order."

"If you can truly do that I will get you your Piece of Eden," Julian said hoping that he could live up to that slightly deceptive statement, "but how do I get out of here?"

"The telepad is right over there," Vidic said pointing.

"I need to be near Clear Water base, in Kansas."

"I can put you at a telepad some thirty-miles from Clear Water, it's as close as I can get you but the men there are mine, not the Combine's."

"Thanks Vidic," Julian said patting the man on the shoulder before making his way toward the telepad, "maybe you Templars aren't total scum after all."

"Thanks I think," Vidic offered with a wounded smirk, "Just make sure you get me that Piece, it might be our chance to take back humanity."

Julian was going to ask the man what he meant by that statement, whether he'd intended it to mean the human race taking back the Earth or the Templars taking back their domination of humanity. The assassin had little time to ponder as his body once again shifted through space instantaneously appearing before a set of bewildered Combine soldiers. Julian offered them a disarming grin as he stepped from the telepad and attempted to clear the dizzy sensation from his head. The assassin felt truly surprised when the Combine soldiers rushed to help him walk straight instead of lifting their weapons to fire. Julian had little time to admire the remarkable loyalty of the Templars - he had a battle to get to.

The assassin loaded his things into a Combine APC hoping that when he arrived at Clear Water they wouldn't blow him up before he could identify himself. The Combine Templars had explained to them the troop mobilizations were almost complete and that the pieces were moving into place for the first wave of Combine attack. The news that Clear Water was still intact and hadn't already become a smoldering crater littered with corpses brought renewed hope to the assassin. Julian found himself wondering if the portal device would truly turn the tide of the fight. He'd managed to do some trial runs with it before setting out from the Templar outpost and he'd left a possible escape route back to that outpost in the form of a glowing orange portal.


	10. Chapter 10: Emergence

Chapter Ten: Emergence

Desmond watched the sunrise from the South Tower of Clear Water Base. There were four such towers each one attached to the electrified perimeter fences they placed around the base. The walls wouldn't serve to stop the Combine onslaught - they'd been built more with zombies in mind. The Combine were notorious for bringing Zombies to battlefields, shelling an area with head crabs so that the injured Resistance fighters would turn against their allies as Zombies. Desmond knew that the fight would begin soon. His scouts had told him of portals being opened only a few miles from Clear Water. The turrets that filled each guardhouse and tower were manned and auto-turrets set to strike only Combine targets had been placed amidst the underbrush on the Western side of the main road. The Eastern side of the main road would be harder to defend as it was lined only with sparse trees and would offer very little cover. Desmond knew they would have to concentrate their fire on those Overwatch soldiers dumb enough to race across there.

Desmond had fourteen thousand troops at his command not including the regiment that Shephard had set for the ambush in the forest to the West of the base. It was only half of what he had hoped for but with Resistance membership dwindling the human race only getting older he was lucky to have gotten as many as he did. They already had evacuation plans drawn up hoping to get as many people out as they could if the Combine did break their defenses. A soldier, who Desmond recognized as Samuelson, approached him then saluting and presenting a strange woman who seemed quite shaken.

"Sir," the soldier said.

"Aren't you supposed to be with the Colonel?"

"Yes sir, I'm on orders from him sir," Samuelson chirped a bit nervous by having to deal with a Resistance legend like Desmond, "She claims to know your son and to have come from Coldwind. I was supposed to bring her to you, I stopped by med-lab and we got her some food and water and patched up her cuts first sir, hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Desmond said waving the soldier away from the woman, "What is your name miss?"

"Subject 27," she replied blankly. Desmond lifted a hand to greet her but she cringed as if he intended to hit her.

"Do you know my son? Do you know Julian Miles?"

"The assassin, yes, we are acquainted," the woman said in her eerily monotone voice. She winced as if in pain and went down into a crouch for a moment. Desmond raced to help her up but she held out her hand to halt him, "I'm better now."

"What the hell was that about?" Samuelson asked with a gulp.

"The Combine were not kind to me," Allison explained, "My name is Allison Rogue and I am a friend of Julian. I've come to beg your help."

"Sir," a soldier interrupted, "I'm sorry to bother you but your son has just been spotted coming up the road."

"Good send him up here right away," Desmond insisted.

"I can't sir, he's being escorted by Combine Soldiers."

Julian walked calmly beside the Templars. There was something truly unsettling about it. Both the Combine and the Knights Templar had been his enemies at one time. Here he was striding along with Templar Overwatch soldiers down the road toward Clear Water. The assassin watched the eyes of the Resistance soldiers, putting the finishing touches on their defenses, go wide with amazement, some whispering in fear and others lifting weapons. Julian gestured for them to lower their guns, not wanting their newfound allies to end up their enemies. The assassin did his best to make his gait nonchalant to clue the others in to the fact he wasn't amongst hostiles and that they shouldn't get any ideas.

A group of high ranking Resistance came down the road now including two first lieutenants and, to Julian's surprise, his Father. The assassin wondered just how fearless his Father could be, to so readily approach hostile forces just before a battle.

"I suppose you're here to negotiate a surrender," Desmond said approaching the only Elite of the group.

"Nope," Julian responded stepping away from the soldiers, "These guys are on our side."

Desmond offered his son an incredulous raised eye brow and watched in confusion as the Combine soldiers stood at attention and saluted him. He stood back scratching his chin in a futile attempt to guess at what Julian had done to change their allegiances. Desmond knew from experience that breaking the mind-control of the Combine was no easy task and that often Combine soldiers had their brain chemistry altered in order to fully break their individuality.

"There's more where this came from," Julian assured his Father, "it's a bit hard to explain."

"Please explain it anyway," Desmond said with a still perplexed expression.

"You might turn against them if you hear you they really are," Julian suggested and Desmond's eyes went wide.

"Templars," he nodded and Julian's expression, despite the younger assassin's attempt to mask it, betrayed the truth of Desmond's guess. The two stepped away from the soldiers to talk privately, "I should have known they'd survive the Combine. I'm not so sure we should trust them."

"Neither am I," Julian admitted, "at least not entirely… But for now, in our moment of desperation, we need their help"

"As much as it pains me to agree," Desmond said, "We do have bigger fish to fry."

"Those old figures of speech never make much sense do they?" Julian laughed.

"We have other business," Julian explained, "I have a girl here, a young woman who says she knows you."

Yuki watched Desmond and Julian arguing back and forth and recalled her similar dialogue with the General only the day before. The young assassin had only just arrived and was already arguing to leave the base and go off on a separate mission. Desmond was arguing against it and not backing down an inch, wanting his son present in the command room and away from the danger unless he was needed in the battle.

Julian was conflicted as his Father stormed off to continue preparations. The Combine were on their way, Striders were moving in there was little the assassin could do to change his Father's mind now. He'd spent days attempting to get the Portal gun and get back to Clear Water to turn the tide of the battle. Now it seemed a distant goal to the one he felt more pressing, the capture of Michael by the Combine. The assassin knew his presence on the battlefield would do very little to slow the Combine assault even with the Portal Device in hand. Now that the Piece of Eden was gone, another factor in his Father's anger, there was little hope for their victory. Desmond had dropped several hints in their argument that he wasn't planning on holding to the bitter end and was concerned with keeping escape routes open. At least half of their battle resources, particularly vehicles with mounted turrets and the few helicopters they had would be used to ferry people out and keep the way clear for escape. If it all fell down around them they would be evacuating to City 12, the only city controlled by the Resistance.

The assassin had little desire to stay now but part of him felt like leaving would be abandoning the Resistance in favor of selfish desire to save his friend. Julian wondered if they had even kept Michael alive this long. If it weren't for the sadness in Allison's eyes he might have stayed to stand beside the others at Clear Water against the massive forces. Scouts had reported at least twenty thousand Combine soldiers, nearly half of them Elites, on their way. That force was likely only a first wave in the total amassed troop count of the enemy. If Clear Water could hold off twenty thousand, and Julian wasn't sure they could, more would arrive through teleportation or in dropships.

Julian looked over to Allison who sat with a glum expression. Desmond had explained the situation to her, explained that they could not misplace resources to save one man. Saving Michael would take thousands of troops since he was deep within Coldwind, a facility that Desmond had not wanted to attack ever again without proper strategy and a great deal more firepower.

"I'm sorry," he said softly taking the seat beside her.

"Michael would risk his life for me," she explained, "I have to go, even if no one else will."

"You can't go out there," Julian said, "The Combine will be here any moment."

"It doesn't matter, I have to try," Allison growled tightening her fists in frustration.

"No," Julian turned to see Yuki, "I will go," she said.

"Didn't my Father forbid you from fighting?" Julian asked a bit confused.

"To hell with the rules," Yuki smirked, "Besides according to Allison here that bitch, the female assassin I nearly killed at Black Mesa, is still alive and helped take her friend."

"You want revenge?" Julian asked.

"I want to finish what I started," Yuki corrected, "The Vorts will go with me."

"And so will I," Julian announced, "To hell with orders."

"I will go too," Allison assured but her face was suddenly curled up and she collapsed into her seat whimpering with pain.

Julian knelt beside her and lifted her chin to see her brilliant blue eyes wet with tears. The assassin kissed her softly and stood up with a renewed desire to spill Combine blood.

"You stay here," he begged her wiping the tears from her eyes with his sleeve, "I'll be back. "

Julian rushed to his room assembling his things. He took off his assassin robe and entrusted it to a nearby soldier who promised to get it onto one of the evacuation trucks. The assassin hated giving up his robe to the chance of its obliteration but it was necessary if he hoped to see it again. Where he was going he would have need of better armor. He kept the under layer of the Combine Elite armor he'd worn while in the City 17 Citadel hoping that wearing the HEV suit overtop of it would provide extra protection. He sliced off the edge of one sleeve with a table saw allowing room for his hidden blade and covering the exposed part of his arm with cloth and then chain mail.

The assassin headed down into the armory loading up on throwing knives. He blew past the guards and entered Desmond's own assassin armory thinking that borrowing weaponry from his Father would do little to further the man's anger which would likely already be considerable when he learned of Julian leaving. He found something there he'd never seen before, a gauntlet gun. It was clearly to be worn around the wrist but it wasn't a hidden blade or single shot weapons. It had two barrels and magazines of ammunition emerging from the top of it protruding out the sides. He smashed the glass of the display case and scooped up the weapon removing the other sleeve of his HEV suit to put on the gauntlet. He also found a breastplate but he had to take it and run back to his room avoiding the guards as best he could.

So there he was, wearing Combine Elite under-armor, a breastplate over that, with his XM-8 in one of the HEV storage pouches, his silenced pistol holstered on one side, the gauntlet gun, his special BARBED hidden blade which would do extra damage and ten throwing knifes strapped to his belt. In addition to all this he'd stuffed every other magazine he could into the storage pouches of the HEV suit to make sure he had plenty of ammunition. Yuki appeared in the doorway to his room truly impressed by what she saw.

"You are every bit a badass," Yuki said.

"If we survive this will you finally succumb to your desires?" Julian asked.

"Desires?"

"You know you want it," Julian winked.

"Well you know if I cover my good eye and squint you do look almost attractive enough to turn me on," Yuki laughed.

"Got your Vorts together?"

"Ten from Black Mesa and they managed to get thirty from here to ditch and come with us."

"Great, it'll be forty-two of us versus the six or seven thousand stationed at Coldwind."

Julian emerged from the base to calls of protest from the soldiers around him. There were Striders just ahead of him. He watched one stumble forward into the hopper field knocked in that direction by a Resistance rocket. The hoppers leapt up and knocked the Strider's legs out from under it sending it crashing to the ground. There were at least a dozen of the lumbering giants on the horizon and the assassin knew plenty more would be on the way.

Julian, with Yuki behind him, made a mad dash for the forest off to the west hoping to loop back around to the east and make it to Coldwind without having to fend off thousands of Combine on their way. They waded into the forest quickly making the distance and coming across no Combine until finally reaching the hidden forces of Shephard and his men. The Colonel wanted no part in their outing. Julian managed to convince the man to take the Portal gun and after a quick demonstration of its use the Colonel was sure he would find some use for it in the ambush.

"Imagine the look of surprise on those Combine bastards when we appear from the ground beneath their feet," Shephard said, "Thanks kid."

"Take care of yourself old man," Julian said offering the man a handshake but receiving a hug.

"We need to go," Yuki reminded and soon enough they set back out into the woods.

It must have been twenty minutes before they began their wide loop back around to the East. To their horror though they came out of the tree line staring at a row of Combine dropships and a large group of soldiers, a hundred at least, looking at battle plans. The Vorts moved first blinding the enemy with a flash of lightning and then zapping as many as they could. The assassin took cover behind a tree and took out his XM-8 popping out to drop a soldier now and then as they rushed around fighting the Vorts. Yuki was truly a sight to behold for Julian as she rushed into the fray unafraid chucking grenades and hip firing her submachine gun. The Combine were far more interested in the Vortigaunts than the assassin and his female friend. Yuki rushed for cover and tossed out a smoke grenade

The assassin leapt into action at the sight of the smoke. He dived into the mist his sharp eyes cutting through it far easier than the Combine HUD. None of these soldiers were Elites, the assassin had noted, so none were equipped with thermal filters on their visual systems. This meant he had the advantage now. His hidden blade stabbed into the back of one soldier tearing out a massive chunk of flesh as its barbed edges slid back out. The assassin spun tossing a throwing knife at a shadow that was rushing toward the edge of the smoke but had no time to make sure it was a kill. He dodged one soldier's erratic SMG fire using his silenced pistol to make short work of the panicked group.

The smoke cleared and Yuki was left with an impressed smirk on her face. The assassin had not only already brought down all the remaining soldiers he had also collected the throwing knives he used and cleared the bodies of useful ammunition.

Michael wasn't sure if he was alive or dead. The darkness of the cell they kept him in, the sensory deprivation, left him laying a pool of cold sweat. His mind wandered here and there on the brink of madness. Hallucinations, sounds and sights flashed before his eyes. One face returned to haunt him each and every time, the pale icy eyes of Theta Dark. He had to wonder how much longer they would keep him here. To his knowledge he hadn't been interrogated in days, though in the darkness of his cell he had to admit there was little way to tell time.

Perhaps something had distracted them, he thought. Perhaps they would leave him here to rot and even begin forgetting to feed him. He had refused their slop anyway, afraid that some truth telling agent or insidious poison would be placed within his food. At the first the hunger had been gnawing but now it was commonplace. He was empty, haunted, huddled in the corner of his dark cell. The only comforting thought he could find was that Allison had escaped though even that was only a hope and all of his hopes were wearing thin.

Shephard hated the waiting game. He and his hidden force had watched Strider's, Hunters and even a wall of Combine foot soldiers come wading through the forest a little over a hundred yards ahead of them. He knew his orders were to wait until the opportune moment to spring the trap, when most of the Combine soldiers were ahead of his force focusing only on Clear Water itself. The Colonel hated this though, he felt utterly useless in a battle that he knew would tax the Resistance to its breaking point and likely leave thousands of soldiers dead. He had to remind himself that in order for their deaths to not have been in vain he needed to wait, to hesitate until he and his regiment could land the killing blow on the first wave of the Combine forces.

Desmond watched the monitors light up as various parts of their defenses fell. Thus far they'd done a great job, the first wave was breaking and they'd done everything they could to hold together. General Cartwright's group had done their duty and taken out every Strider that had come up against them. The Hunters had proved a bit harder to take out and several had actually gotten within the perimeter fences only to be dealt with by snipers placed in precipices along the walls of the actual Clear Water compound. The Compound was comprised of four buildings linked by breezeways but also by concrete bridges that lead to sniper towers. The armor piercing rounds of the snipers had proved far more effective at dealing with the Hunter synths than attempting to use simple machine guns or rocket launchers.

The ground outside Clear Water was littered with at least two dozen carcasses, the remains of the Striders. None of them had even gotten in range of the base though a few had taken out soldiers from Cartwright's rocket squad. The destruction of the Striders had a rather unexpected consequence though - it provided ground cover for the approaching Combine Overwatch making it hard for snipers or turrets to pick them off.

Weighing in the back of the man's mind was the news that his son and Yuki were both missing. To his surprise the emotion dwelling in his mind had been fear and not anger, fear that the son he'd just been reunited with would again be out there in danger. Desmond knew that Julian was more than equipped to survive and to fight but that would do little good against insurmountable and incredible odds like those his son would face at Coldwind. Bullets would not show discretion and the Combine would not be kind if they captured him, especially since he was lacking the Piece of Eden. Desmond cringed, remembering the being that often visited him now was in possession of the Piece. It was better than it being in the hands of the Combine, he assured himself.

Most of the Combine forces, at least fifteen thousand, had now moved beyond Shephard. Desmond hit a switch on a computer terminal and sent the signal that would tell the primary Resistance force to emerge and engage the enemy and would also signal Shephard that it was time to move in.

Julian watched the soldiers as they continued down the road. The ground shook as the Strider lumbered forward at a painfully slow pace. The assassin was amazed at how easily they could move so close to the Combine forces, it was as if they expected no threat along the road. Julian had to resist the urge to strike in that moment reminding himself that the true fight was up ahead and that a friend of his was counting on him.

The assassin felt almost selfish in his actions knowing deep down that his true motivation was more in helping Allison, in winning the woman's affection, than in saving Michael. Julian liked Michael and all, and was appreciative of the man's help but his attraction toward Allison was far stronger. The assassin wondered why he had chosen now to become enamored. The futility of love typically prevented it in this post-reproduction world. Sure there were a few Resistance members who had healthy sex-lives but most saw the action as saddening now that the Combine suppression field had aged the world two decades. There was something about Allison though, perhaps her youth, her beauty, her tragic history, her peculiar and brilliant blue eyes. They weren't ordinary eyes, they seemed to go on forever, their blue was deep and yet bright and vibrant, like two frozen flames. The assassin wondered if their beauty was somehow tied to how the Combine managed to make her.

Julian shuddered to think of how many others were like Allison. How long might the list continue after Subject 27? Were there entire colonies off world of human slaves made by the Combine in labs? The assassin knew that some of those in the Animi at Coldwind had to be the product of the Combine tests, the faces he saw had been tortured and young. Others had been older. The assassin hoped the answers would accompany the coming fight and that Allison would find her way out of Clear Water safely if and when the base fell. He wanted to see those eyes again.

Shephard emerged from the Portal and opened fire at the nearest Combine target. His men came through after him pouring from the Portal as quickly as they could. They fired off round after round at the bewildered Combine Elites. The enemy tried to turn to face the Resistance soldiers but they were being cut down quickly. For each Resistance soldier that met their end at the pulse round of an AR2 five Combine soldiers fell dead, torn to bits by the armor piercing rounds the Resistance had each assault rifle, SMG and LMG his regiment was carrying. They took cover amidst the twisted metal and synthetic parts of the Striders and darted between the sparse tree cover as they made their way across the fields.

The Combine had already been engaged with the five thousand Resistance soldiers who had come pouring out of Clear Water toward them and now they struggled to face this new enemy. One Elite turned back to his troops and ordered them forward. He tilted his head in confusion when they refused the order and instead lifted their AR2s in his direction. The Elite lifted his rifle and repeated his order only to be met by a Dark Energy Grenade, consumed in blackness and wreathed in white flame he faded into oblivion.

The Templars turned on their masters now, more than a thousand of Combine soldiers within the first wave firing on their Combine comrades and aiding in the fight. The Combine had already suffered a loss of nearly a thousand troops to the turret fire, sniper fire and wall of five thousand Resistance soldiers that had fought against them but now the remaining fifteen thousand of the first wave was lost in the chaos. They tried desperately to fend off fellow Combine soldiers, Shephard and his group who seemed to appear like phantoms from the ground and the remainder of the Resistance who now pressed forward from Clear Water wading into the enemy lines and shattering the first wave.

Desmond watched the Combine wave collapse and felt a smile emerging on his lips. The Templars had clearly come through and Shephard too was making great progress. The elder assassin could not allow too much confidence to enter him in that moment. He still had hope that they could hold out and now it was bolstered by their initial success but the Combine had more than fifteen thousand troops and more than one wave. He knew more Overwatch were on their way and soon enough the second wave would emerge.


	11. Chapter 11: Reaper

Chapter Eleven: Reaper

The darkness vanished from in front of Michael's eyes. Light formed around the figure in the doorway searing the imprisoned man's eyes. He waited as his blurred vision slowly corrected and watched the Combine soldier on his approach. The Overwatch soldier shut the door behind him and sat down across from the man offering a sigh. Michael, trapped here for days, beaten and left in a lightless world, wasn't sure what to make of this. He thought, for a moment, that begging for mercy would have been a good idea or perhaps an attempt at escape, even if they killed him he could go down fighting.

A loud clap brought him out of his contemplation and brought his eyes back up to the enigmatic soldier. In front of him was a tray and on the tray was food. Michael eyed the soldier once more skeptical of the act of kindness as he nudged the food with the plastic utensil left on the tray. Michael had refused to eat their slop when they fed him before but it'd been five days of imprisonment and there was little strength left within him. Besides, he reminded himself as he took a tentative nibble of what appeared to be mashed potatoes, the last time they'd tried to feed him they'd slid the meal through a slot in the door.

"Don't worry friend," The Combine soldier said softly, "It's not poisoned."

"Why?" Michael asked though his voice sounded alien - it had been so long since he'd spoken!

"Not everyone in the Combine is heartless," the soldier promised, "Some of us are friends to the Resistance. I must warn you that they are planning on killing you and there is nothing I can do to stop them without blowing my cover. There is an exit, down the hall to the left, it leads to an emergency tunnel."

The soldier slipped a scrap of paper to Michael, the man's trembling hands lifted it and read the seven digit code inscribed in ink upon it. Michael didn't know how to thank the soldier or even who the soldier was or why he would help him. He didn't have a chance to ask. Before the words could form on his lips the mysterious soldier had gone. Michael returned to his meal and felt the flames of hope rekindled.

Julian watched the road closely more concerned about Hunters than Striders or soldiers. The sly speedy synths would prove far more dangerous to their little band than any other enemy the Combine could produce. Even well armed and heavily armored the assassin wouldn't have an easy time of it taking down a Hunter, and taking down two or three in one fight would be a feat he wasn't sure he wanted to attempt. Coldwind produced far more than three hunters. The factory likely housed hundreds of the predatory droids. Julian hoped most of them would be at the fight against Clear Water getting their synthetic rears handed to them by General Cartwright's rocket brigade.

Yuki waited a short distance away moving only when she received the all clear from the spry assassin. She admired the man greatly now. The assassin in action as they wove their way down the road past convoys and patrols was truly a sight to behold. They hadn't yet been spotted and Coldwind was just ahead. Her heart brimmed with nervous excitement and a thirst for Combine blood, a thirst for revenge. As much as she wanted to believe her current path was one of sacrifice she knew at its core this was a quest for vengeance. She didn't have anything vested in saving Julian's friend Michael though she did honestly feel sympathy toward the assassin's plight.

Outwardly the assassin was as stoic as a statue but his internal turmoil was beginning to boil over. He knew that he couldn't afford to let it show or to cause him to slip in his vigilance. They'd been the perfect picture of stealth thus far, nothing more than a shadow and a breeze to the eyes of the Combine but any mistake could be their last. Julian had to wonder if Michael might even still be alive. The Combine likely caught the man in search of Julian and the assassin felt pangs of guilt. Julian knew that Michael had spent decades evading the Combine, setting traps and fighting off attacks - it was only AFTER Julian had befriended the man that Hell came to carry him off. The assassin took a deep breath and fell inward finding a place of eternal calm. This was his chosen path and he would need focus to complete this task, the way was set and there was no going back. He slipped across the street and into the tall glass with silent footfalls waving Yuki across as he did. The Silo was almost in sight, the way was set.

Theta's pale features drew up into an expression of demonic anger as she considered the sluggish creature on the computer monitor. She found herself wondering if this otherworldly demon could read her thoughts or guess at her displeasure.

"Is there a reason why you will not let me fight!" Theta exclaimed, doing her best to stifle her anger and maintain the favor of the Combine.

"You have failed us in the past," the translation clicked across the screen followed by a wave of foul thoughts in the dark assassin's mind, "But we have a way for you to redeem yourself."

"Show me," the wicked woman bid.

"There is an item of great importance," the alien slug relayed, "We will send you its coordinates. Get it for us and you shall have free reign to fight in what battles you will."

"I live to serve, I live because of you," the assassin said offering a sarcastic bow.

The screen went dark then and the dark assassin grew impatient. She paced her room with an angry glower over her unusually beautiful face. Her skin was similar to what it had been before, within Theta's body, but now Theta was within Lambda and she felt all the more seductive. She wondered to herself if her reproductive system was even intact. Had the Combine bred her to be sterile or did they seek a self-replenishing army of super-assassins? She put the thoughts from her mind as the coordinates and details of her assignment flashed across the computer screen. All disappointment fled from her when she saw where the Combine would send her - replaced by a wicked smile.

Desmond watched the troops regroup from his perch atop the tower. He knew that the Second Wave would hit soon, already some twenty thousand Combine were gathering in the woods ready to attack. The experienced Resistance leader was busy coordinating their defenses hoping that the Combine might walk into the second trap twice. Even if they did wise up he had Shephard nearly a mile back from where the first ambush had been set. Colonel Shephard had a portal open and ready near where the Combine were likely to send their main forces.

"That was too easy," Amber Cartwright called entering the tower, "Combine bitches didn't stand a chance."

"Speaking of bitches," Desmond joked as he turned to greet her, "How is your group holding out?"

"Well aside from Shephard's men we had the least casualties," Amber reported her demeanor suddenly serious, "Of all of our combined forces we only lost maybe twenty-two hundred to those S-O-Bs."

"That's still a lot," Desmond lamented, "I should have just had us retreat."

"There aren't enough vehicles for fourteen thousand some troops to all get out," Cartwright reminded.

"Where have the Templar's gotten to?"

"As far as I know they joined Shephard's group. I still can't believe those fuckers managed to infiltrate the Combine Overwatch. Imagine the balls that takes."

"Sir," a scout yelled, "they're on the way!"

Desmond watched the horizon as an endless line of black forms swarmed his way. The General was confused and he turned to an equally befuddled Amber but it soon became clear what they were dealing with.

"The fucking Combine cavalry," Amber yelped, "There must be five hundred dropships."

"Not to mention whatever they managed to teleport in," Desmond said feeling a bit light-headed, "This is going to be rough."

"Good," Amber added with a comforting pat on his shoulder, "that's just how I like it."

Julian saw the three synths snaking through the tall grass and turned to warn Yuki. He stopped for a moment to consider the woman. Her face riddled with tiny nicks and scars and her eye covered by a patch. She'd managed to survive a fight with more than an ordinary Combine soldier, with the first in an emerging line of Combine assassin's. Yuki gestured her understanding of the immediate threat the three Hunters posed. The Vortigaunts immediately volunteered their services but Yuki and Julian waved them away and waded into the grass toward the stealthy synthetics. The Hunter's saw them coming across the open plain and attempted to circle them. Against any ordinary soldiers the maneuver would have worked to perfection but the keen eyed assassin and wary female warrior were far from perplexed by the simple ruse. One Hunter was out in the middle pretending to be slow, stupid and slightly injured, it limped about thinking it was distracting its opponents.

Julian pretended that the Hunter's technique was working. The assassin wanted surprise on their side and he moved in on the decoy Hunter all the while watching the others move in thinking their motions went undetected. The one on the right moved first and the assassin was ready launching three throwing knives before the spry synth could fire off its Flechette barbs. Only one knife managed to lodge itself into the Hunter but it hit at the junction between leg and torso severing one third of the tripod. The Hunter on the left had been smart enough to stay back but still believed itself unseen by the assassin as it slowly crept its way toward him. Yuki moved in on the third one now forcing the stumbling injured Hunter to go her way. Julian opened fire now openly attacking the Hunters.

The first Hunter, the one that had served as a decoy, sprung into action firing off its barbs. Three of them lodged into Julian's HEV suit just below the knee and exploded their plasma shrapnel leaving the orange surface of the HEV suit charred black but doing no real damage to Julian. The assassin was firing his wrist gun, shells poured out as round after round split the air in their journey toward the Hunter. The assassin cursed his luck as the speedy creature avoided all but superficial damage. A few grazes and wounds to non-vital areas left the synth essentially intact.

Yuki moved as quickly as she could in serpentine fashion wanting to avoid being skewered by the Hunter's Flechette bolts. She turned every now and then to fire off an orange bolt from her crossbow but those that did hit did very little to deter the coming Hunter. She pulled a grenade from her belt as one of the bolts buried into her back and exploded. She felt forward feeling her back burning hot. She cried out using her pained scream to muffle the sound of pulling the grenade pin as the Hunter raced toward her. She waited playing dead until the synth arrived and then bolted away tossing the cooked grenade behind her and leaping out of danger as it detonated powerfully. She looked back watching the half-crippled synth attempt to walk and loading in a bolt to her crossbow. She took aim leveling the crossbow bolt with the red eye of her manufactured enemy. She let fly and the Hunter sank to the ground beneath. Yuki knew she was injured but she had no time to consider that, she had to get back to the battle.

Julian swiped his arm against the Hunter's synthetic flesh breaking off the barbs as he passed by to let them erupt against the Hunter itself. The droid protested the action but took little damage as it chased after the assassin. Julian felt sluggish in his current state. Wearing undergarments, the under armor of Combine soldiers, a breastplate, chain mail over certain areas and his HEV suit he was more than a little slower than his typical break-neck pace. Still quicker than most the assassin stayed ahead of his opponents deadly attacks and attempted to get some damage done in the process. He used the Flechette of one Hunter to finish the second. The formerly two-legged Hunter fell lifelessly to the grass below. Now it was just Julian and his final foe, the assassin spun and ducked his head as a group of Flechette just behind him exploded. He raced toward his synthetic enemy as it dodged out of the way he opened fire with both his gauntlet gun and his XM-8. The act would have probably led to his death had Yuki not arrived just a moment before to distract the Hunter from behind. The Hunter, a victim of its own ruse, collapsed into a puddle of its own synthetic life blood.

The group had little time to celebrate though as Combine soldiers raced from the Silo to face them. Yuki offered Julian a playful wink with her good eye as the assassin reloaded his weapons. He had to admire the woman's courage in the face of insurmountable odds though something told him her knew attitude was brought on by a lust for vengeance and not the carefully calculated decision making she seemed to favor back at Black Mesa. Julian shrugged in acceptance of her newfound audacity and took aim at the nearest Combine soldier.

Out came Yuki's smoke grenade and in came the Vorts making quick work of the two dozen or so Overwatch who had arrived to thwart their entry. Soon enough the group was descending into the tunnels beneath Coldwind. The Combine hive was stirring quickly now with soldiers arriving from side-tunnels and secret passages in an attempt to end the lives of the invaders. Yuki set aside her fear and opened fire, the image of her Father an eternally burning flame within her mind.

Theta Dark was in the process of readying her things for her mission. Her pale eyes lit up when she heard the alarm blaring in the facility. A wicked smile one again slipped onto her face and she found her hand going to her sword instinctively. She went to the computer terminal punching up the surveillance system to see what had set the alarm and praying with baited breath for blood to spill. Her smile only widened when she saw the familiar figures fighting their way down the halls toward the detention area.

"A bit of fun before the real work begins," she cooed wickedly.

Colonel Adrian Shephard sat silently. His muscles ached but the adrenaline coursing through him wouldn't allow him even a moment of rest. His mind was racing ahead to the coming fight, to the continuation of the battle for Clear Water. All around him, stalking in the shadows of the late September sun, were his troops. He knew that they too could have used rest but the pressing threat of thousands of Combine would not have allowed it. They knew that battle was coming soon, the sound of Combine dropships in the distance had alerted them only a few hours before and now they waited with weapons drawn. Shephard had placed a portal near the main road hoping the Combine would make the same mistake twice and try to use the ruined Striders and corpses of their fallen allies as cover.

The Colonel turned to regard the Combine soldiers who had defected to the side of the Resistance. He knew that they were Templars though the moniker meant very little to a man of his limited education. Desmond had spoken of them only a little, mentioning a shadowy cabal of sinister men but Shephard had seen them fight and in his mind any enemy of the Combine was a potential ally for him and his men. They were competent soldiers and every bit as loyal as any of his men.

Shephard spun suddenly, his ears picking up a faint sound toward the perimeter of their hidden camp. He sent scouts in that direction taking up position beyond the group and inching their way as silently as they could toward the epicenter of the noise. Sticks were snapping in the distance and Shephard could make out dodging figures in the trees. The Colonel's eyes went wide as he watched a spinning blade leap toward one of his men and burrow itself into the unfortunate soldier's temple. The soldier lurched to the side and fell dead.

The Colonel rallied his men as the sun that spied through the forest canopy was darkened by flying forms. Tiny spiraling blades programmed to tear at flesh, man-hacks. Shephard ordered his men to focus their fire on the man-hacks with only silenced weaponry while rallying the Combine-Templars to his aid in searching out the true threat. The Colonel was no idiot. He knew that man-hacks were more often a distraction meant to flush out the enemies of the Combine.

The threat revealed itself before he could even get beyond the perimeter of the camp. A stealthy shadow slipped into the ranks of his regiment and began to make quick work of them. Several more followed. Shephard could hardly make out the insignia on their uniforms, each of them female and each of them bearing a Greek letter. The Colonel turned his weapon on one only to watch in horror as the witch weaved her way out of being hit once by his Pulse Rifle. The next thing Shephard felt was cold steel against his throat.

Yuki swept the feet out from under the Elite and quickly ended his life before returning to the terminal. Julian had managed to hold most of them off as she frantically searched the Combine computer system for schematics of the building they were in. They would need to know where Michael was being held and how to get there and get out if this rescue operation were to work out. The Vorts had managed to create an almost impenetrable defense by focusing their beams together to form a sort of energy shield that would zap any overzealous Overwatch. The Elite soldiers, however, had no problem phasing through the field. Once through to the other side Julian made quick work of most of them with his gauntlet gun. Those who managed to make it nearer to the assassin were met by the razor barbs of his hidden blade dislodging chunks of flesh and spilling gore left and right.

"Got it," Yuki called back to Julian, "One building over, we need to take this tunnel over and then find an elevator up. That entire structure is a prison, damn big one too."

Julian nodded his approval and the Vortigaunts dropped their defenses, bullets quickly crowded the air and cut down several of the Vorts in the escape. Now down to only half of their original number Julian had to wonder if it was worth the losses. He felt selfish for bringing them into this personal battle.

They rushed down the tunnel knocking back soldiers with lightning bolts and bullets and doing their best to avoid injury. Another Vort fell as they passed by the guard post for entering the prison building. The halls swarmed with at least a hundred soldiers now and Julian and Yuki had to wonder if they would make it out of this one alive.

"Go," one of the Vortigaunts offered, "we will sacrifice ourselves for the one that you seek."

"I can't ask you to do that," Yuki protested.

"There is no veil between us, even in death," another Vort chimed, "Go."

"You cannot deny us this honor," another Vort confirmed.

Yuki was torn but the bullets whizzing by her head spoke volumes and she sprinted toward Julian. The assassin felt a pang of guilt as they reached the elevator unscathed and ascended into the facility. He promised himself that their deaths would not be in vain. Yuki burned within, her own guilt replaced by anger, thirst for blood. Vengeance, she decided, would help her friends to rest in peace, only vengeance. Yuki reached down to hold the hilt of her katana, the blade had once belonged to her Father. She hoped that with it she could kill Theta Dark and bring honor to her family name by avenging her Father.

Desmond watched the chaos from his control room and felt his heart sinking. The base was nearly overrun and the troops had fallen back behind the perimeter. The Combine had come from all sides as if tying a noose around the Resistance. It took the efforts of nearly every available soldier to keep the escapes routes clear. Even with fifteen hundred Templar amongst those Overwatch who attacked they were outnumbered 2 to 1. The General tightened his fist and bit his lip mulling over his next course of action. He knew what had to be done but he wasn't sure he had to will to do it. Clear Water had stood a testament to the strength of the Resistance for more than a decade, it served as the hub for Resistance activities and the source of leadership. It was Clear Water that had led the charge to free City 12, the City that would need to offer Desmond and his remaining soldiers a safe haven.

"What are you waiting for Desmond?" General Cartwright asked, her eyes begging the question, "We've lost, now let's do what we can to get the fuck out of here!"

"How can I just abandon this place?" Desmond asked slumping into his seat despondently.

"Like this," Amber replied slapping the evacuation button and smiling as the alarms sounded, "Let's get to the convoy before they decide to leave without us."

"No, we can stay Amber, we can fight!" Desmond proclaimed but the fire in his voice died off when he felt the ground trembling and saw the building burst to flame.

With sadness in his heart the General who had led so many to salvation from the Combine turned like a coward and ran. He had sent so many to their deaths this day, barely two thousand would be carried to the safety of City 12 by the convoy. Those that remained had to stay and fight, had to bleed and die in order to allow the others to escape. Desmond's heart couldn't have gone lower; his hope was left decimated and all but dead. The Combine had finally brought their wrath down upon them and like ants from a magnifying glass they scurried from the hill afraid to face the fire. Desmond had always believed that there cause was just and their purpose the highest but now, seeing the Resistance capital broken, having to flee for his very life and leave so many men and women to die on his behalf, he wondered who the true monsters were.

Yuki lifted two AR2 Pulse Rifles and fired into the crowd of oncoming soldiers with impunity. Pulse rounds piled into them tearing flesh and sending blood racing across the polished hallways of the Coldwind Detention Facility. Julian stood besides her trying to keep the soldiers off to her sides and rear at bay using a combination of speed and pistol fire. The assassin did his best to help her but he was afraid they were losing valuable time stopping for her own personal vengeance. What was worse was that she'd been grazed by several bullets and had nearly been killed by a Dark Energy grenade. Yuki seemed not to notice, she seemed not to care. She had been suddenly and utterly consumed in the fires of hatred and the desire for revenge.

The halls were splattered crimson as she pressed on tearing through the Combine ranks. Julian could hardly believe the woman wasn't dead but amazingly her efforts were proving effective in moving them forward. Julian had to keep pressing her on it though and he had to lift a hand every time she needed to reload her weapons. The assassin took a hit too - a graze to his left leg slowed him down considerably serving to make him an easier target for the swarms of soldiers. The assassin took it in stride using Dark Energy grenades fired from a Pulse Rifle he picked up to clear ten or twenty soldiers at a time.

Yuki stopped firing for a moment turning to consider the area. The assassin too was frozen in place left puzzled by the sudden emptiness of the hallway. All that remained was a hundred and fifty or so corpses of Combine soldiers. All the living soldiers had either been killed or had turned tail and run. Julian knew that their display had been impressive but he also knew the Combine had them beat in numbers and that the Combine knew they were injured and slowing. They could not endure forever and yet here they were progressing quickly down the corridor unimpeded.

The piece of the puzzle fell into place as they stepped into a large room littered with computer terminals and came face to face with a phantasm. Julian felt himself bleach white at the sight of her almost becoming as pale as the dark assassin herself though when he turned to Yuki he saw only anger in her expression. Theta Dark paced back and forth at the far exit of the room, her footsteps all but silent across the floor. Julian knew that the super-assassin could have silenced them completely, it was her choice whether to be heard or not.

"Well well," Theta cooed with a wicked grin, "If it isn't my two favorite Resistance pawns. I must say I am not surprised you made it this far, the Overwatch are rather stupid and slow."

"We don't have time for this Dark," Julian insisted strutting forward as if he was going to step past her. Dark's cold stare froze him in place though he showed no fear.

"Gordon Freeman," Theta said spitting, "You wish you were as great a man as him, Julian Miles. There are few in the Resistance who are as worshipped as the Freeman, he is their Messiah. Even now he is in Europe wreaking Hell upon the Combine. That is how we knew you were not him."

"But if he is Messiah how do you know that I am not he, in two places at once?" Julian joked but Theta's cold pale eyes stole the laughter from his throat.

"You have come for Michael Cameron," Theta said calmly, "And I will give him to you IF you give me the Piece of Eden."

"I don't have it," Julian admitted openly.

"You have lied to me before," Theta warned.

"I don't have it, it was taken from me by a man in a blue suit," Julian explained.

"Then perhaps you will give me her," Theta said whispering and glancing over at Yuki, "I have business to settle with that one, give her over to me and I will let you walk from this place without being attacked."

Julian looked over his shoulder at Yuki and felt that part of the creed coming back to him. Nothing is true, everything is permitted. He put it out of his mind though knowing that he could not betray Yuki, or the Resistance, in order to get Michael back. The assassin was truly stuck.

"So what do you say?" Theta asked loudly making sure that Yuki could here, "Hand over the bitch and we have a deal."

"You want me?" Yuki asked pulling her katana from its sheath, "You got me."

"Yuki no," Julian insisted but Theta had already pushed past him to face Yuki.

"Yuki," the assassin whispered coolly, "Ah yes, the late General's daughter. I remember what you did to me, it makes sense that Yakamoto's daughter wouldn't go down without a fight."

"You'll pay for whatever you've done to my Father," Yuki growled. Her good eye went cold and her voice was devoid of mercy.

"Would you like to know the details?" Dark chuckled wickedly.

Yuki's rage boiled over, her enmity devoured her, and she ran forward swinging her blade down. She seemed almost surprised when Theta blocked the blade sending it sliding away from the dark assassin. Yuki spun defensively her sword resounding against the steel of Theta's katana.

"I promise I will make your death quicker than that of your Father," Theta spat.

Julian watched the two locked in their deadly dance neither woman seemed to be making any progress against the other. Each aggressive move Yuki made was blocked beautifully by the deadly Theta Dark. The assassin took out his pistol and ran his hands over it wondering if he should intervene. He knew that Yuki was angry, that her revenge was important to her but he also knew that such anger could be her undoing if she wasn't careful. Something else was becoming clear to him as the fight before him unfolded. Although they seemed on the surface to be evenly matched Yuki was the only one on the offensive. Even when the opportunity presented itself Theta seemed intent on blocking only and never in attacking.

"She's toying with you!" Julian yelled watching another of Yuki's attacks fail.

Yuki had been suspecting exactly what Julian had just realized. She stepped back from her opponent and offered Julian a wink as she pulled the pin on one of her smoke grenades and let it fall to the floor hissing as it released a great plume of gray smoke. Yuki knew she had to act fast to maintain the advantage against the quick witted assassin. She went for the legs only to have the dark assassin leap over her attack and spin away while swinging toward her. Theta's katana cut a light line in the flesh of her arm. Only then did Yuki truly feel the extent of her wounds, only then did the adrenaline crash from her veins like a plane without fuel from the sky. Only then did she realize her folly as the blade pierced her abdomen and Theta Dark drew close.

"My new eyes see the heat of your body," Theta stated coldly, "You pitiful fool."

Yuki spat her blood filled spit into the assassin's face satisfied as it splattered across her deceptively beautiful façade. The woman looked over, as she slipped from the blade to the floor, to see Julian coming to her. She faded in and out watching as he bent to her and seemed to grab something from her belt. The assassin had to act quickly. Already Theta Dark eyed him with malicious thoughts brewing beneath her initial reaction. Julian lifted the Flash-Bang grenade and threw it as the dark assassin lifted her blade to finish the job on Yuki. Theta, still seeing in the thermal spectrum, was blinded. Julian leveled his gauntlet gun at her and let off round after round filling the super-assassin with holes, tearing flesh and cutting through sinew like paper. He rushed toward her then plunging his barbed blade deep into her eye and pulling out vein and tissue. Theta fell to the floor bleeding from half a hundred wounds.

Julian rushed to Yuki kneeling beside the woman as Combine soldiers filled the room around him.

"You got her?" Yuki asked wiping the blood from her lips.

"One of her at least," Julian said, "but we have bigger problems."

"Don't," Yuki said gesturing for him to leave, "Just go Julian, I'm a lost cause anyhow… I've already lost too much blood. Just, just go and find Michael and get him out of here and if you see… if you see my Father, tell him I'm-"

Julian was not usually one for emotions but as she slipped from life, as he felt the fire leave her body, tears found his eyes. The assassin stood and faced the crowded room of soldiers with an unyielding glare. The Combine which had sown so much destruction into the world would now reap that bloodshed tenfold.


	12. Chapter 12: Escape Velocity

Chapter Twelve: Escape Velocity

Desmond watched the world race by the window as the all-terrain escape vehicle traversed the flat and boring Kansas landscape. The man was a mess internally, his heart felt as empty as it could be. He had lived fifty-three years and spent the first half of that time running from his past, from the origins he knew he had. The assassin order had called him back to fight in their ongoing conflict with the Templars but that fight had been interrupted by the arrival of the Combine. Now the assassin order had even fewer members than it had before the Combine Empire moved in with only a few hundred remaining in the entire world. Desmond only knew of a handful who had even maintained contact, a small brotherhood that maintained correspondence with him regularly. Desmond had always taken courage at their words, reminding him to walk in the path of his ancestors.

"Altair," Desmond whispered, "and Ezio… what would they do?"

"They would not give up," Amber answered though she didn't recognize the names her friend had mumbled, "And neither will we. With City 12's numbers behind us we will bring Hell on the Combine."

"City 12 only numbers near twenty-thousand," Desmond reminded her.

"A sum magnified by the city's fortifications. If they come against us there we will kill them 10 to 1 at least."

"Than let us hope the Combine do not wish to waste those kinds of numbers."

"New recruits would be nice," the female General remarked, "but fresh meat is few and far between."

"Don't speak of the soldiers that way," Desmond demanded his eyes flashing with anger, "They sacrificed themselves to get us out!"

"I was merely going to suggest we do something about that Suppression Field. There's not much hope for us if the Combine keeps us from breeding much longer."

"It can't be done," Desmond said dismissively, "we'd need to strike a Citadel."

"No, we'd need to strike the Combine Space Suppressor, that station is responsible for the entire Earth's suppression field, if we bring it down."

"One thing at a time Amber," Desmond said, "First a Citadel, then the Space Station."

"So it's a plan then?"

Desmond didn't answer - his mind was swirling with ideas. They had to do something, they had to act, or the death of those who fought at Clear Water, the life of Adrian Shephard, would be in vain.

Shephard's mind was drowning in darkness, blurred shapes danced around him slowly coming into focus. The ringing in his ears died out as his eyes finally got a grasp on reality. He was bound but not by ordinary cuffs. Some sort of energy coil tightly woven round his wrists kept him from separating his hands. There were four figures with him, each one female and each one bearing a Greek insignia. These were the four Combine assassins that had led the charge against his troops and captured him.

He felt a wave of nausea sweep through him when he saw where they had brought him. The spire seemed to penetrate the sky above with the top of the tower shrouded into an onyx veil of cloud and mist. This was no ordinary Citadel, Shephard knew, but a prison with a reputation worse than Hell itself. Skulls littered the rocky ground as they led him down stone the path. Ravens called from on high drawing his attention to the staggering height of the tower.

"Golgotha," Shephard gulped feeling the color leave his face and the strength leave his bones. No one, to the Colonel's knowledge, had ever left Golgotha alive.

Julian dipped his hidden blade deep into the Combine Elite's back ripping and rending flesh as it tore its way back out. The Elite staggered backward, as the assassin pulled the blade free, and fell into the oncoming crowd. Julian dodged pulse rounds and bullets running and sliding on his knees using his hidden blade to gouge knee caps and cut into shins as he slid whilst firing his gauntlet gun at those on the left. Bullets nearly grazed his head as he leapt up knocking aside a soldier's AR2 with his hidden blade before jabbing the weapon three times, in rapid succession, into the soldier's head. Brain matter hit the floor and the assassin leapt over the line of fire from the next group of soldiers. Those that didn't fall dead from their own ally's bullets met cold steel already stained by blood as the deadly assassin tore through the soldiers toward the exit.

Anger drove his blade, righteous fury that ached within his bones. He cut down enemies left and right leaving the halls running with rivers of blood as he rent flesh asunder. His blade was a tool of justice, cutting the life from those who had taken life from so many. He would fight against the enemy which had brought humanity under the tyranny of the Combine and kept them enslaved for twenty-one years. That same enemy had brought the life of Yuki Yakamoto to an end. The assassin had neither mercy of pain. Each graze of a bullet or punch of a Combine fist ended in only bloodshed - ended the life of those foolish enough to stand in his way. Only when an image of Michael, and of Allison's fiery blue eyes, flashed within his mind, was the defiant assassin brought back to reality and his mission was made clear to him again.

Another wall of Combine blocked the way - the assassin smirked and waded amongst them - another pile of corpses lie bleeding. A pulse round struck his shoulder from behind burning its way to his skin and causing searing pain to shoot through his body. Julian sent out a wave of throwing knives and soon enough six soldiers lie dead with eight knives sticking out of them. Julian shrugged off the loss of ammunition and fired off the last remaining rounds from his gauntlet gun clearing the path into the cell block.

The hallway was quickly cluttered with Overwatch but the assassin leapt up to the ceiling grabbing onto the light hanging there to swing himself over their heads. Bullets ricocheted behind him but he was already up to the next level. More soldiers were going to meet him there, until his XM-8 opened fire killing three and knocking the other two from the stairs. One Elite leapt to tackle him but the spry assassin moved to the side smirking as the soldier face planted behind him. Julian stood menacingly over the soldier thinking to finish the man off but bullets whizzing past him told him he had no time for vengeance now.

The assassin sprinted up the stairs dispatching one soldier with his hidden blade and hooking the barbs to allow him to throw his enemies body at those racing up behind him. He tackled the next group turning as he ran past to unload several rounds from his XM-8. He was nearly out of ammunition for that gun as well. Julian swept the feet out from under the next soldier narrowly avoiding bullets from behind him as he finished the soldier off and then using up the last of his XM-8 magazines. He pressed on into the cell block knowing that Michael's cell was not far off. The halls twisted and turned with prisoners in every cell calling out for his help. He made the last turn to find a Combine soldier guarding the cell. The assassin moved in for the kill.

"Wait," the soldier tried, "I am a friend. I am a Templar."

"Do you know who is in this cell?" Julian asked, "He is a friend of mine, I want him out, quickly."

Julian turned to see soldier's racing around the corner behind him. He dropped to a crouch hoping the Templar would open fire. The assassin wasn't disappointed, for every Overwatch his silenced pistol dropped the Pulse Rifle of his Templar ally dropped three. Julian stood to thank the man but realized he was already within the cell. The assassin appeared in the doorway and looked upon the frail bleached white friend he had last seen two weeks earlier.

"You've seen much better days my friend," the assassin joked as he helped Michael out into the hall.

"Quickly," the Templar shouted, "Down this way, there is an escape route."

Julian had to nearly lift Michael fully off the ground to get the speed he needed to keep up. Bullets ricocheted off the walls behind them dancing in the corridor and pressing their pace. The assassin knew, even with an escape tunnel out, that the fight wasn't over.

Desmond stared into her eyes and felt sadness flow within him. There was something in those fair blue eyes that stole his confidence and left his defenses decimated. She was his guiding light and yet the disappointment in her expression was remarkable in its depth. The elder assassin turned to see Altair, his own expression equally forlorn, equally judgmental. Ezio too had eyes that seemed to judge. Lucy put her hand on his shoulder and let her lips touch his.

"Your time is over my love," she whispered, "You have done all that you can."

"No," Desmond pleaded, "I have tried so hard Lucy."

It was too late though and like a phantom she faded from his sight. Desmond's eyes opened to the world but he had no time to dwell on his dreams, the deep and deafening roar that had awoken him was far more pressing. He turned to Amber who seemed amazed that it had taken him this long to awaken.

"Gunships," she explained, "Fuckers found the convoy a few minutes ago."

"We need to get rid of them," Desmond growled, "We need to make it to City 12."

Desmond crawled into the cockpit of the armored vehicle kicking out the gunner of the mounted mini-gun. He manned the turret realizing quickly how bad of a situation it was. Nearly a dozen Gunships had descended from the sky and already three dozen vehicles lie as nothing but flaming ruins along the roadside. He opened fire on the nearest one nearly being clipped by its pulse cannon as it soared past him. He could feel Amber pulling at his pant leg desperately calling for him to reconsider. He nearly did when he saw the Hunters emerging from the fields all around them followed closely by a swarm of man-hacks the size of which he could scarcely believe.

"FIRE!" He shouted as loud as he possibly could hoping that other gunners would understand his call to focus fire on the man-hack swarm.

Soon enough the cloud of man-hacks was falling to pieces. The gunships, however, had taken out several more armored vehicles and the Hunters were proving more and more of a nuisance. Desmond knew that despite their own numbers and formidable firepower they were fighting a loosing battle without rocket launchers. Luckily several of the supply trucks toward the back of the convoy did have RPGs and Desmond sent word to them immediately to bring the gunships down before they could be destroyed.

Desmond understood that even with the RPGs there would be no winning this fight. As if to prove his point and seal their fate a convoy of Combine APCs burst out of the tree-line and opened fire. The General knew of only one place where they could go that the Combine would not follow, he gave his team the coordinates and returned to his gun taking aim at the nearest gunship and nearly knocking it from the sky. Two other mini-guns were concentrated on the same Gunship and soon enough, with smoke pouring out of it, it crashed into the Kansas countryside.

The elder assassin could not let his dream be a reality. He could not allow the deaths of so many to be for nothing. Defeat was not an option and giving up was as far from his mind as he could place it. He would hold on, for the sake of the human race and all those who had died for the cause of the Resistance. The Combine had to fall, whether he was alive to see it or not, the Combine had to fall. Even if the best he could do was set the stage and put the dominoes into position Desmond was determined to do all he could to set things right. No more hiding in the shadows and striking only when necessary, the Combine had declared war at Clear Water and Desmond was going to answer that call. For now though he needed to escape and Desmond had never felt so glad to see a radioactive wasteland as when the ruins of Kansas City came into view on the horizon.

Julian and Michael made the mad dash across open territory, bullets and pulse rounds sang past them pushing them forward. They made good time despite Michael's weakness and quickly clamored aboard the Templar-Combine APC that their allies had prepared. The APC screamed into the night leaving several pursuing Striders and the sound of Combine sirens in the distance. The assassin breathed a sigh of relief as the sounds grew faint and the pounding of Strider legs all but undetectable. He turned to Michael who greedily slurped down water from a canteen one of the Templars had offered him. Julian noticed that most of those in the APC were wearing Civil Protection uniforms, not Overwatch and he wondered what City they were currently AWOL from.

"Thank you," Julian said to the Templar who had helped them escape, "My name is Julian Miles."

"Pleased to meet you Julian," the Templar said offering a handshake to the assassin, "I am Eric Milan. I must say your work is impressive assassin, you really wiped the floor with those Combine pigs."

"I'll say," Michael agreed, "and I thought my own work when I infiltrated Coldwind was impressive, you my friend are a master, for your age at least."

"Allison will be glad to know you are alright," Julian said offering his friend a smile, "As am I. To Clear Water base."

"Tomorrow," Eric assured him, "We need to ditch our getaway vehicle and after that we will rest. Michael is still too weak to move very fast very far."

"Very well," Julian agreed, "but we should not waste any time, once he has had some real food and a night of sleep we will set out for Clear Water."

"She is coming back online," a stalker said to another.

"We mustn't allow this one any more transfers," the second one hissed, "She has failed us too many times already."

"The others should be returning from Golgotha soon," the first one reminded, "We can get them to handle the mission."

"No," the second one replied, "Send them to deal with the remnants of that convoy in the city. Theta can get us the Piece, or she will DIE trying."

"What of the one who escaped?"

"Send Omicron, he is in need of a trial run anyway."

"Very good," the other Stalker agreed, "I will tell the Advisors about this."

Theta watched the blurry figures, with their pale translucent skin and clacking metallic legs, depart from her. She truly hadn't expected to be back online so quickly but a survey of her surroundings explained why. She had been transferred into the body of Mu, one of the younger super-assassin bodies not yet endowed with a personality of any kind. How her anger burned in that moment. How badly she wanted the assassin to pay for what he'd done to her beautiful body. The tank around her emptied of its amniotic liquid and hissed open allowing her to exit. She stretched her new physical form out every which way turning to see a Stalker approaching with her clothing and armor.

"Am I to head to the arctic as before?" She asked and the Stalker merely nodded, "And after?"

"If you succeed," the Stalker assured her, "You will be allowed to fight in the battles of your choosing and kill those who wronged you and if you fail-"

"I won't," she cooed coolly, "No distractions this time. Is the teleporter ready?"

Theta watched the Stalker nod and felt a smile on her lips. She would complete this mission for them and after she would spill the assassin's blood.

Allison felt absolutely useless as she hopped from stone to stone through the radioactive waste that littered the city streets. She was one of the only people there who had no formal military training and most of what Michael had taught her about how to fight was currently lost to one of her memory lapses. Luckily their trek into the muck hadn't been too hard thus far though many soldiers had already begun to complain they had been rather lucky. The Combine, for whatever reason, had called off their dogs, even the Gunships, the only enemy that could have gotten at them without endangering itself greatly, were strangely absent from the sky.

Desmond thought it odd that they faced so little opposition as they wandered into the city. The reason became apparent when he smelled the familiar stench of zombies. The Combine were hopping what was left of the Resistance would be the prey for zombies or be burned by radiation. Luckily Desmond had several scouts with Geiger counters on point marking safe paths with cans of spray paint and also searching for signs of zombies. He looked back over his shoulder to the young girl that his son had run off to help. Allison Rogue was her name. She was an enigma and a beautiful one at that. It was her age that had astounded him when he'd listened to her story, only three months older than nineteen. He had other reasons to sympathize with her though, he could tell her memory loss and mental problems stemmed from overuse of the Animus - the Combine had essentially tortured her much like Abstergo had tormented its subjects.

"Are you alright?" Desmond asked her noting the forlorn expression as they turned down a side street the scouts had marked.

"My mind is a bit, problematic right now," she said turning away from him, "My memory has been getting better but… I don't think I'll ever be fully back to normal."

"Normal?" Desmond asked with a laugh, "What we need is exceptional in these times. Can you be exceptional Allison?"

"Allison, yes that is my name," the young woman smiled, "Sometimes I forget. You see I used to be Rosa, some two hundred years ago. I was there when George Washington used a Piece of Eden at the Battle of Long Island."

"But Washington lost that battle," Desmond said scratching his chin. He dropped his line of inquiry, seeing that it pained her to think so deeply about her ancestral memories. His attention shifted when he heard screams from the front of the line. He raced forward watching as one of his scouts stumbled toward them with a head crab attached to him. Desmond watched another soldier lift his rifle aiming carefully to take care of the parasite and not harm the soldier. Off flew the head crab, the soldier collapsed to the ground and took in deep breaths. The Resistance soldier had been saved from a life as a zombie but the cost, firing that one round, had been high. The city was coming to life around them. The eerie call of Fast Zombies, lean muscle and bone with nothing left of fat, filled the air.

Desmond had them fall into a defensive formation of concentric circles with each circle firing over the shoulder of those crouching in front of them. Zombies poured from every orifice, every doorway and window, every side-street and corridor. Desmond felt his heart sink again, two thousand had left Clear Water arrived, now here he was in the heart of a zombie filled radioactive Hell with no more than four hundred soldiers left at his command. He gritted his teeth and grabbed a Pulse Rifle taking off the head of the nearest zombie and hoping that they could hold out.

"We can't stay in one place," Desmond realized.

He knew if they were to have a chance they had to keep moving and stay ahead of the horde. Already dozens were swarming and soon enough soldiers began to fall. Desmond led them on sending the scouts double-time and praying that they could find a way out before sundown. Already the sun hung low in the sky and the chill air of the first October night swept down upon them.

Julian gazed upon the setting sun but his thoughts were to the East, to Clear Water. The assassin no longer felt any guilt about abandoning the base in its hour of need. After all he had succeeded in rescuing Michael. The cost, however, had been high. The image of Yuki's death flooded back into him and the assassin felt his fists tighten reflexively. Theta Dark, he knew, could likely have survived the injury's he'd given her. The dark assassin's mind seemed all but immortal and he'd recognized the differences in the form she had taken against Yuki. Yuki, anger pulsed through him like gasoline suddenly poured onto a fire. He had to douse that flame, he knew that it was that sort of anger, the thirst for revenge that had brought Yuki down and clouded her judgment. Had Yuki done the smart thing and allowed them to fight Theta together the woman would still be alive. And yet the assassin felt responsible for her death on at least some level, he had not acted quickly enough to prevent her injuries.

Julian felt strange suddenly as the sun dipped below the horizon at last. A presence seemed to emanate from beside him and as the assassin turned he saw a familiar form. The man in the blue suit seemed to glow with an almost ghostly aura and though he stood in the mud he did not sink in the way even the light stepping assassin did.

"My sources told me I could find you here Mister Miles," the man started, "I also have heard that you plan on visiting Clear Water. I would strongly advise, against such action."

"Clear Water might need my help."

"Clear Water, Mister Miles, is a ghost town. Your Father has moved on to City 12."

"Than I will go there-"

"I'm afraid not Mister Miles," the sly G-Man interrupted, "There is a matter of pressing concern. A Piece of Eden that might fall into the wrong hands. I will leave this with you," The G-Man said handing Julian a scrap of paper with coordinates scribbled on it, "I must go now, someone is approaching your camp."

"Wait, what do I do with the Piece once I have it?" Julian asked but his question fell empty in the chilly air. The assassin spun then hearing something from behind and finding the camp in an uproar. He watched as a figure stalked through the camp with a sword drawn cutting down the Combine-Templars and taking bullet wounds as if they were paper cuts.

Julian sprung into action taking out his silenced pistol and striking the hulking Herculean figure with several rounds in the head. The darkened figure turned his way and only then did the assassin see the Greek symbol on the man's uniform. The letter Omicron across his chest told the assassin what he was dealing with was no ordinary Combine soldier. He dodged the towering Combine assassin's sword blow landing his hidden blade into the man's abdomen and drawing it up in an attempt to spill the man's guts only to find his enemy had no guts to spill. Omicron lifted his sword and brought it down attempting to skewer Julian but the assassin proved too spry and he was soon behind his enemy. Omicron turned with lightning speed that seemed so unbecoming of a creature of his bulk. Eric and the two remaining Combine-Templars fired Pulse Rifle rounds into the genetically engineered titan. Round after round hit home but they seemed to have almost no effect.

"It's no use," Eric called, "He's a fucking tank."

"Hit him with a Dark Energy Grenade," Julian suggested getting punched hard in the chest and staggering back just in time to avoid Omicron's swiping sword.

A Dark Energy grenade struck the massive Combine assassin, white fire and dark energy engulfing it for a moment but then, to the horror of all those around, vanishing and leaving Omicron essentially uninjured. Julian shook his head and spat cursing his luck as he deflected the blade of his massive opponent with his hidden blade and then stabbed the blade into his enemy's wrist. Omicron cried out in pain, an otherworldly and entirely inhuman screeching that sent a chill through Julian's spine as he twisted his blade loose and grabbed the man's sword as it fell. Julian lopped off Omicron's fingers with one sweep and then went for the throat amazed when the blade wouldn't cut cleanly through and was stopped by some sort of structure.

"He's a fucking cyborg," Julian lamented as Omicron's hand gripped around his throat tightly. The assassin stabbed the sword into the towering synth-assassin again and again but it seemed not to pain the creature at all. Julian felt the sword slipping from his grasp and the feeling leave his bones. Then he heard the sound of a shotgun, it seemed so distant but soon enough his vision had returned and he stood up watching Michael, wielding a Spaz shotgun, and unloading shell after shell into the cyborg.

Julian took the sword and ended the life of the cyborg, although decapitating it took four hits and nearly got him killed by another powerful punch. Julian breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed to the ground.

"You alright?" Michael asked. His own head was dizzy and his body still weak.

"If I hadn't worn this HEV suit he would have broke my ribs with those damned punches," Julian said taking Michael's hand and standing, "Gordon fucking Freeman saves the day again."

"The Combine are getting better at making these things," Michael said poking at the corpse.

"I wouldn't do that," Julian advised, "His head may be separate from his body but that doesn't mean he is dead. We need to get moving."

Desmond and the survivors were following a trail of flares left by the scouts. The night had proved just as hard fought as Desmond had imagined it would with dozens of Zombies lurking around every corner. They had even encountered groups entirely comprised of Zombine, zombies formed when a head crab latches onto a Combine soldier. In life they were bad enough but in their zombie state they absorbed even more damage before succumbing to death.

Allison was close behind clutching her MP7 and whispering the words to a song she remembered from the Revolutionary War. A song that had made Rosa brave when she faced the firing squad after the British had squeezed all the information they could from her about the source of Washington's power. She stopped to take aim at a nearby zombie bringing it down easily but not having as much luck with the Zombine rushing toward her next to it. She stepped back, her mind suddenly shutting down in face of danger, forgetting all she ever knew.

Desmond stepped in knocking the Zombine aside and filling it with holes before it could get the pin pulled from its grenade. Even in death the Combine tried to kill them. The night was nearly over and they had made good time, and despite the hardship of picking their route through the ruined city, they'd only lost a dozen men thus far. Several more, however, had been burnt by radiation and Desmond feared that if they remained there much longer they would all start to feel the effects of the residual radio-activity. His relief was incredible when the scouts returned to him to tell him they had found a route out that was free of Combine and nearly clear of Zombies. The General returned to his troops with a smile and even got a few of them to apologize for earlier remarks questioning his decision. He doubted the road to City 12 would truly be without its obstacles but like a savior leading his people from bondage he hoped the worst was over.


	13. Chapter 13: Sword of Eden

**Chapter Thirteen: Sword of Eden**

Julian moved silently amidst the trees, his every step was sans sound. The assassin was entirely in control of his body, each motion calculated to be quiet. Even his breathing was undetectable against the still October air. He turned for a moment to dwell on the sound of a bird in the distance. The carrion call of a Raven sounded like a siren over the landscape. The sound of gunfire followed quickly and the assassin felt a rush of adrenaline that nearly knocked him from his state of precise clarity. He stopped in his tracks and looked back to where Michael and the others stood at the bottom of the hill and he waved them forward but gestured for them to be swift and silent. Michael, nearly as quiet as the assassin, moved up beside Julian.

"What is it?" he asked before the sound of automatic gunfire answered his question.

"Just on the other side of the hill," Julian explained, "At least six or seven armed individuals."

"You can tell how many they are just by the sound?" Eric asked softly.

The assassin nodded and readied the silenced MP7 that Eric had given him. He gestured for the four of them to follow him and slipped up the hill. On the other side he found a group of seven Combine soldiers shooting rounds in the direction of a crashed Resistance jeep. Julian's sharp eyes could see two dead Resistance members in the jeep with a crowd of crows circling overhead and a third Resistance member pinned down behind the disabled vehicle. Julian lifted his MP7 and took out three of the soldiers. By the time the other Overwatch new what was happening and had turned about they were riddled with holes by the other four members of Julian's party. The assassin raced down the hill toward the jeep with his hands up in as a sign of peaceful intentions. The Resistance member stepped out, his tired face covered in axel-grease and blood. The poor man had to be at least sixty years old.

"Thank God you came along," the man gasped, "Combine had me dead to rights. Name's Riley."

"Julian," the assassin said shaking the man's hand, "You okay?"

"Bruised up a bit and a bullet nearly took my ear off but other than that I'm fine. Say, you wouldn't happen to be Desmond's boy would you?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well we were looking for him to join up," Riley replied, "There were forty-three of us in the convoy when we set out. Now there's just me. We were headed to Clear Water to help in the fight that was supposed to be coming when our last Jeep broke down."

"I'm afraid that fight has come and gone friend," Julian said patting the man on the shoulder, "Come on, we'll get you something to eat or a place to lie down."

"Julian, my eyes might be going bad in my old age, are them Combine soldiers you got traveling with you?"

"It's a long story old man, a long story."

Theta sat in her darkened room awaiting word from the Stalkers. They wanted her well rested for her mission to recover one of the Pieces of Eden. Soon after the Combine had arrived Assassin's and Templars alike had moved quickly to conceal the Pieces from the Empire. Their constant probing of minds had proven fruitless for many years but now they had finally found information on the location of one of the Pieces. This one had been moved before the war, hidden away from the Templars by an assassin and artic explorer. The Dark Assassin breathed slow cool breaths. Her body barely even needed oxygen, her new body, Mu, had been designed to breathe almost any gas.

The door slid open and the dark assassin could hear the clacking of metallic stalker legs across the floor.

"The teleporter is ready," the Stalker said, "Do not fail us."

Julian watched his friends walk away from him and felt emptiness in his heart. His mission to Coldwind had been costly, leaving friends and allies dead in the attempt. He had put all guilt for Yuki's death away, knowing the woman had voluntarily accepted the risks - had even desired to meet Theta Dark in battle once more. Now though, bruised and tired, the assassin longed to see his Father, Shephard and the others again. He knew they'd likely pulled out of Clear Water by now and though the Combine assault had been massive Julian had to assume that the leadership made it out alive, including his Father.

Things had changed for him. Where once he moved only from time to time and shadow to shadow to strike against the Combine now he was on a mission every waking moment moving from goal to goal. The constant struggle was beginning to way on the young man. Even in times of great conflict in their fight against the Combine things had never gone this crazy. The worst part of all was that he wouldn't have time to see Michael and the others reach City 12 safely. He had to make his way to the Combine-Templar station Vedic had teleported him into and find a way to the coordinates the G-Man had provided him. He wouldn't get to see Allison's blue eyes wet with tears of joy when Michael strode into town. The assassin had a flash of nightmarish thought, his mind racing with question about Allison's fate during the fighting at Clear Water. He put it out of his mind and strode into the field without looking back.

Now was a moment when the call of duty could not be ignored in favor of his personal comfort or desires. The Combine could not be allowed to get a Piece of Eden when they already had so much power over the Earth. Julian didn't like taking orders from the enigmatic man in the blue suit but he could not dwell on that now. He took a few deep breaths to clear his mind, wiped his brow of sweat and hoped the approaching night would bring the chill of autumn. He put it all out of his mind and strode into the field without looking back.

Desmond listened to the sound of the swaying trees. As the evening deepened around them the wind had begun to pick up sweeping through the trees to relieve the unseasonable heat that the day had brought. The group had encountered no resistance since their exodus from the zombie-infested city the day before and was now only a few dozen miles from the outskirts of City 12. The City, since it had been taken from the Combine several years earlier, had expanded to include the surrounding suburbs and several other towns populated by those brave enough to live on the perimeter. The inner city was a place for all Citizens escaping the tyranny of the Combine most of which joined the Resistance. The last count Desmond had heard put the City somewhere around eighty-thousand citizens with more than two thirds being Resistance members and at least half being soldiers. The Elder assassin could only hope the rumors he'd heard had been true. He himself had only spoken to the leader of the Resistance there, an eccentric and strange fellow who called himself Baron Brown, infrequently.

Allison walked some distance behind Desmond. Her thoughts had been more on his son than on the man himself. Her memory, thankfully, had been intact for the last several hours and though her feet ached she had spent hours fantasizing about Julian. She felt a bit embarrassed by her feelings, this was the first she'd even recognized sexual attraction. She wondered if this is what ordinary people felt, those not manufactured as Combine stooges. A moment of doom descended from her mind, images behind her eyes of the Combine creating her to be sterile, her womb lifeless. She knew not if they were memories or the deepest of her fears but the effect was still the same as she steeled herself against the sadness.

Something drew her attention away then, the movements of something she mistook for the wind. The deepening shadow of evening barely betrayed their motion, the wraiths making swift and silent progress toward their group. She raced toward Desmond to warn the assassin but it seemed he was already acutely aware that something was amiss. He turned to see her lips silently move to the word that had been on the tip of his own tongue: Combine.

Desmond sounded the alarm and the tired group organized itself as quickly as it could. Their eyes failed them in the light as three dark shapes swarmed through wielding blades. A fourth feminine form opened fire with a silenced weapon devastating the group. Desmond lifted his MP7 and fired on the first target leading it out in front a great distance. He could barely make out the Greek insignia on its uniform. The speed and silence of the enemy informed him that it could only be an assassin working for the Combine. He cursed himself as he pulled the trigger and ended the life of the quick, but not quicker than bullets, assassin. He approached the corpse to get a look at what they were dealing with and bent down lifting the eyelid of the pale female open to reveal blank white eyes. Up came a hand and in went a blade, Desmond choked as blood rushed into his throat, he stumbled back watching in horror as the assassin he'd assumed dead stood and brushed herself off.

"I expected better from one of your reputation," Gamma said shaking her head in disappointment.

The shadowy Combine assassin darted off but not before being met head on by a Dark Energy grenade. Her body was de-corporeal zed before their eyes. Allison rushed to Desmond's side and called for the medics. She put pressure on the wound as the medics arrived before turning back to the battle with curious eyes.

The group had numbered more than four hundred but now at least three dozen lie dead and the dark assassins showed no signs of slowing. Each one had been wounded of course but their bodies were not those of ordinary human beings, having been designed by the Combine to take at least twice the damage of the average man before finally succumbing to oblivion. Allison intended to end all three of them. She waded into the crowd with her Pulse Rifle lifted high and fired off several short bursts. She wasn't the best shot though and the only individual she almost hit was a Resistance soldier who soon met death at the edge of a blade.

Allison gritted her teeth and was about to rush to meet the attackers head on but their spry movements perplexed her. She stepped back for a moment and considered their movements and suddenly it hit her. There was a pattern to their attack, each of them moved in a spiral. They would begin at the center of a small group of soldiers and move in a spiral pattern outward as they crowd around them grew in size. Allison reloaded the Dark Energy Grenade launcher on her AR2 and predicted where the next assassin would be with expert timing evaporating the assassin marked as Beta into a puff of white flame and dark energy. She told the others near her of the pattern and watched as they worked as a team to hit the assassins from all angles until finally all four had been dealt death blows.

Of the four hundred soldiers that had survived the journey through the ruins of Kansas City only two hundred and eighty remained alive. The force had originally been two thousand strong when they left Clear Water. Allison felt her stomach sink as they began to build makeshift gurneys to carry the dozens of wounded forward from here. She walked over to where the medics tended to Desmond.

"Will he live?" She asked watching him slip in and out of consciousness.

"Probably," one of them said though his tone wasn't very reassuring, "It's hard to say. He's lost a lot of blood but the blade passed through without cutting at his main arteries."

"We'll need to get him to City 12," the other Medic said grimly, "We don't have the resources out here."

Theta felt her body rematerialize and quickly took into account her surroundings. Her eyes panned the horizon behind her, flat and empty tundra, but before her lie a massive mountain of ice. Whether a glacier or an actual landmass buried beneath the endless snow she didn't care, she had her orders. She readied her ice axes and climbing spikes determined to make the summit as quickly as possible. The sooner she could procure the Piece of Eden the sooner her blade could sink into the flesh of Julian Miles.

She began her upward climb, and then suddenly above her the sound of the ice being impacted drew her attention. She slipped back down to ground level and scanned the area. Another impact sound, faint enough as to be utterly missed against the tundra's howling winds by an ordinary human, resounded. The next hit came not against the ice but against her flesh, a bullet burrowed through the back of her calf muscle and tore out the other side. She didn't cry out though for a moment she went down on one knee. The Combine had numbed the pain of such wounds but it was still an unpleasant sensation. Theta rushed to find cover but on the open tundra there was very little to be found. She decided, instead, to be in perpetual motion as she scanned the mountain of ice for the elusive sniper.

"They didn't tell me there was anyone up here defending this thing," she spat mumbling more curses for her Combine overlords under her breath as she switched her pale eyes to detect heat.

Another bullet whizzed by her but the sniper was using a flash suppressor and silencer and she could see no sign of him. Yet another shot came toward her and this time the heat from the barrel was visible as no more than a speck on the horizon. The Dark Assassin cooed evilly as she considered her route to the sniper more carefully. She would get the Piece of Eden and she would have the pleasure of ending lives in the process.

Allison paced to and fro outside the hospital room as those within worked on Desmond. She hadn't any idea if their frantic pace was a normal part of medical procedure of if they were racing against time to save a dying man. Their group had been met only a few miles from where they were attacked by a scout group from City 12 and she, Desmond and General Cartwright had been rushed into the City along with the medics that had tended to his wounds initially. Sweat poured down her brow as she peaked into the room through a crack in the door.

"Calm down cupcake," Amber called from her seat a little way down the hall, "Your boyfriend will be just fine."

"What do you mean?" Allison asked, "He was stabbed in the throat, that's hardly fine."

"Desmond's seen worse," she reassured him, "That fucker could survive just about anything. Could probably crawl inside a fridge and survive a nuclear blast," she laughed.

"I'm afraid I don't understand the joke," Allison said with a perplexed expression.

"Damn, that's right, you weren't even alive for that movie," Amber realized with a snap of her fingers.

"Movie?" Allison asked, "Is that like television? Because my friend Michael had a television in his camp."

"Yeah, it's sort of like television," Amber replied distracted as the lead Doctor exited Desmond's room.

"Will he be alright?" Allison asked frantically before the Doctor could even speak.

"He should be," the Doc answered with a smile, "His voice will take some time to recover but he should be up on his feet in a day or two."

"Told you kid," Amber said with a smile, "That son of a bitch is too tough to let a scratch like that do him in."

"Son of a bitch," Allison echoed with a residual smile on her lips.

She wasn't quite sure what that combination of words was. She screamed suddenly as a flash of memory entered her mind. This memory wasn't hers though, she quickly realized, as images of a jungle, of bullets and blood, surrounded her. She was falling back into a ghost of her ancestor's past, into the body of her grandfather fighting in Vietnam. Allison knew who she was though and she clawed her way back to reality finding concerned faces all around her. She waved them away and sat beside Amber.

"What did they do to you young lady?" General Cartwright inquired with wide eyes.

"They drafted me."

Julian sat with legs crossed and eyes shut. He had already prepared everything he would need for the fight ahead. He had two silenced USP pistols, XM-8 and his gauntlet gun with extra ammo and a pair of energy-cuffs the Templars had offered him in the event he decided to capture any of his opponents for questioning on what the Combine knew. The Templars were readying the teleporter. Such technology was fairly new to the Combine, earlier attempts at teleportation across short distances had proved disastrous without slingshotting to Xen and back, such was costly to energy. Now a new design was sweeping the Empire making teleportation easier and faster.

Julian took deep smooth breaths meditating, clearing his mind of all but the instinct that would drive his blade in the fight ahead. A clear head would be necessary if he was to come out of the coming fight alive. He didn't know for certain what size force the Combine was sending to recover the piece but something inside told him to be wary. His fight with the cyborg, Omicron, had told him the Combine was getting better and better at making assassins. The synth-assassin had been rather sluggish in comparison to the elegant Theta Dark but Julian knew a one on one fight with either Theta or Omicron would be nigh impossible to win. He couldn't concern himself too deeply with any of that - he let it all fade away from his mind.

"It's time Julian," a Templar voice said breaking his meditation.

The assassin stepped into the teleporter a few moments later, torn apart and reassembled in another place. When his eyes opened again they were greeted by driving snow nearly too thick to see through. His ears caught the sound of deafening wind howling across the icy peak he was perched upon. Julian had little time to scratch his head about his whereabouts. Already two figures lurked toward him, their white clothing wrapping them in the snow and making them difficult to see even for the assassin's sharp senses. He took out his pistol firing several warning shots at the nearest target only to have his head nearly impaled by a throwing knife that he just barely avoided.

The second target was upon him and up came his crowbar blocking a long scimitar and knocking it aside. The assassin punched out the bar while leaping over the next attack of the blade but to his amazement his enemy had leaned back in time to avoid being hit. Julian stepped back making sure to take note of the location of the second target that he'd nearly lost amidst the snowstorm. He ducked under the next scimitar and went in with his hidden blade toward the shin of his enemy.

"STOP!" a call went out and Julian froze in place as he felt the cold steel against the back of his neck, "Turn around slowly."

Julian abided by the commands of the voice turning to see the figure, short but otherwise foreboding, and the tip of the katar that had rested at the base of his neck.

"Who are you?" the person asked her voice now finally standing out as feminine to his ears.

"My name is Julian Miles, I was sent here to protect a Piece of Eden. I'm an assassin."

"One of us?" the first target, the man with a scimitar, asked.

"You don't look like one of us," the woman noted with her blade still at the ready, "What's with this orange suit you are wearing? You stick out like a goddamn sore thumb."

"I was warned that the Combine are trying to steal a Piece of Eden from this location."

"That would explain why Akio still hasn't checked in," the man announced.

"Come on," The woman requested, "Let's get out of this storm and we'll talk."

Julian followed them to a nearby temple built into the side of the mountain. It seemed odd to see such a structure here in the tundra of the arctic where so few native cultures had even lived. Julian had to wonder who on Earth would have built a temple in such harsh terrain and hostile climate. He sat beside a roaring fireplace within admiring the ornate carvings, seemingly oriental and yet not fitting with any ancient culture he had ever heard of. The assassin, in truth, had not heard of most of the ancient cultures of his world. While more educated than most of those who grew up during the Combine's reign his knowledge was more complete on the subject of ending lives than studying them.

The assassin turned his attention to those who had more or less captured him. One was a male, his skin rather dark and his face covered with gray stubble. His forehead had lines of worry and he was clearly a veteran of many struggles as scars littered his face. The other, the female, was young, her beauty made only more deadly by the skill with which she wielded a blade or at least that's how Julian saw it in the fantasy he was entertaining in his mind.

"Is there a reason you're smiling at my daughter?" the man inquired. Only then did Julian realize his internal fantasies had translated to an outward reaction.

"Sorry," the assassin apologized with a self-derisive chuckle.

"So tell us again why you are up this far north," the girl asked.

"I told you, I was warned that the Combine was coming up here to get a Piece of Eden and that I should defend it."

"Your name is Julian Miles?" the man asked and Julian nodded, "I believe I've heard that name, before the war your Father was once captured by the Templars. They began to kill us off and search for the Pieces. It was soon after that we came here, to fend off the Templars."

"Believe it or not the Templars are now working with us against the Combine," Julian explained, "What are your names, if I may?"

"My name is Hassan Aldi, I am an assassin, as was my Father before me."

"And I'm Jara."

"And he is Leo," Hassan said pointing to a stoic figure in the corner some distance away. Julian had thought the man another ornate statue, just a part of the Temple décor, especially considering the man's immense height, "I'd introduce you but he might just snap you in two."

"Understood," Julian nodded, "We kinda have bigger problems, especially if your friend Akio is dead."

"Akio does this kind of thing on a regular basis," Jara explained with a sigh, "I doubt he's dead."

As soon as the words had left her lovely lips the head of Akio rolled in through the open temple door. Jara gasped in horror and Hassan grabbed a bow and arrow which sat nearby. Even Leo, once stone still, leapt into action grabbing his hefty M60 machinegun and pointing it in the direction of the door. Hassan signaled Leo to move toward the door with him but Julian shook his head no.

"He's right," Hassan whispered, "It is meant to provoke us into an emotional response, to get us into the open."

"Whoever it was that killed him has his sniper rifle now," Leo agreed, "We'd be stupid to go out there."

"We stay here and protect the sword."

"Sword?" Julian asked his eyes going deeper into the temple scanning for the object, "The Piece of Eden here is a sword?"

"The Sword of Eden," Jara confirmed, "its power kept humanity from reentering Eden when we rebelled, or so the story goes."

"We have little time for fairy-tales," Hassan scolded.

"Akio was just as much my friend," Jara responded holding her tears at bay.

"We need to find a way outside without being seen," Julian announced and all eyes turned to him, "is there a secret exit to this temple complex?"

"There is a tunnel but I doubt any man could fit down it, it was designed when men were much smaller."

"Maybe not a man Hassan," Julian said turning to Jara, "but an assassin nonetheless."

Desmond opened his eyes and scanned the room soon finding Allison sitting in the corner crestfallen. The poor woman was asleep but even in rest her brow was furrowed making her youthful face look tired and old. The assassin tried to call to her but his throat was far too sore and the hoarse sound that emanated from him only served to startle her awake. Her beautiful blue eyes rested on him and a smile appeared on her face as she approached the bed to find him awake. She bent down to kiss him on the cheek.

"I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough to kill her before she did this to you," she said with a gentle smile, "I was worried you wouldn't recover."

Desmond wished he could respond and wash away her unnecessary guilt with a few words but he could not. He hoped the thanks in his eyes told him that he was grateful for her concern and the fact that she had, even if a little late to save his throat, saved his life. Suddenly a soldier rushed into the room, Desmond recognized him as one of his Medics.

"Sorry to interrupt," the soldier started, "But there's a man at the gates claiming he knows you Allison."

"Michael."

The name left her lips and her heart skipped a beat as she raced from the room. She left the hospital letting the mechanical springs on her legs carry her quickly to the main gate of City 12. Once outside the City she waited for the Medic to catch up and lead her to Michael. She found him amongst a group of Combine soldiers being questioned by Resistance. She rushed right past the guards and embraced Michael burying her head into his chest with tears streaming like rivers from her brilliant blue eyes.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Michael cried.

"They didn't do it to you did they?" She asked suddenly, "They didn't make you remember the past did they?"

"No Allison, I'm alright."

"I suppose these guys aren't Combine spies then?" one of the interrogators asked the others, his fellow soldier's simply shrugged.

Jara scanned the area with her binoculars looking for the enemy in their midst from atop the mountain. She was some hundred feet above the temples complex now and though the snow had slowed she hoped that she was still invisible. Julian had suggested she cover herself in as much snow as possible to avoid showing her body heat. She knew the young assassin had some inside knowledge about the threat they faced though he had only mentioned one word, a Greek letter, when asked what it was. Jara's Father wasn't entirely sure they should trust Julian but her own instincts told her that he was trustworthy. Still, it would make sense for Julian to have been the one to kill Akio and then rig the head to roll into the Temple and send her out while he assassinated Leo and Hassan.

The idea fell from her mind as a bullet whizzed past her on her left. Jara dropped to the icy ground and took several calming breaths as she scanned the sniper perches that Akio typically used from her vantage point. Clearly Julian wasn't behind this. She lifted her own sniper rifle and stared through the scope hoping the glint would not give away her position. She saw her target then, a female a good distance away. Jara moved quickly to get back into the temple nearly getting hit by another sniper bullet as she slipped back into the tunnel and joined her fellow assassins inside.

"One lone female," she confirmed and Julian nodded grimly.

"Theta Dark, a Combine assassin, genetically engineered to be the best at killing. She's not invincible though, not by a long shot, I've killed her myself once."

"How do we get at her? " Jara asked, "She's got a good bead on us if we take even one step out of here."

"Emotional response," Julian smirked, "She's as cold hearted as they come, but she wants to fight me one on one after what I did to her."

"You're sure she won't just put a bullet in your head?" Jara asked.

"Honestly, no," Julian answered, "But if I go into battle with the Sword of Eden I'll be able to repel that bullet won't I?"

"We're not sure," Hassan admitted, "None of us have been able to use its power and all of us have tried. This Piece isn't like the apple, it does not respond to everyone."

"It will respond to me," Julian assured them though he was more interested in assuring himself, "Either way if I go out it and distract her it will give time for you three to get into position to take her out. One of you should stay near the doorway and Jara on the roof."

"I guess it's worth a shot," Jara added though her Father's expression was one of absolute incredulity at the assassin's plan.

Julian stepped out into the artic evening. The sky had all but cleared of clouds as he walked out into the open and began doing jumping-jacks and calling out at the top of his lungs. Jara had told him what direction Theta was in and the Sword of Eden hung in its ornate and ancient sheath at his side. The assassin truly wasn't sure this plan would work but he felt it the best one he could have come up with on short notice. Besides, he assured himself, such bravery would be guaranteed to impress Jara

"THETA DARK, YOU WANT ME COME AND GET ME COWARDLY BITCH!"

Julian stood out in the cold for what seemed like an eternity unsure if his plan was working but quite sure that he wasn't yet dead. Then he saw her moving toward him with impossible speed and katana drawn. Despite her distance it seemed only an instant before she was there and the assassin had to deflect her blade with his hidden blade narrowly avoiding the cutting edge of her katana. Out came the Sword of Eden and the lust in Theta's eyes told him that she planned on taking it from him when his corpse lie at her feet. He spun and lunged but it was a ruse to get her defenses wide so that his hidden blade could come in. She was too quick though and he was forced to pull back his hand or lose it. The two assassins stood still for a moment considering each other. It had come to this at last, a meeting of ultimate destiny.

"I thought I put you down already," Julian growled.

"Skip the banter and get to the dying!"

Theta swept her sword in a dazzling attack pattern leaving Julian only one choice, to back up continuously. Behind him though was a wall of ice that left him nowhere to run. So he didn't, he leapt over Theta as she swung her sword from over her shoulder down upon him. Had the blow hit it would have cleaved him in two easily but now he was behind her. Impossibly fast she turned but not before the Sword of Eden cut her flesh. The Sword took on a golden glow as a drop of Theta's blood ran down it.

"This is your idea of a fair fight?" Theta asked, "To use the Piece against me?"

"What do you know of fair?" Julian asked spitting in her direction.

Again she made a move but this time as she approached Julian deflected. This time though she did score a hit drawing a small but deep cut in his left shoulder. The dark assassin chuckled as she launched another mind-bogglingly fast paced attack pattern that left the assassin scrambling. He was a good swordsman but Julian had been trained more with bullet than blade and Theta soon scored another hit, this one on his shin. Julian struggled to stand but fought the pain, a burst of adrenaline hitting him as a sniper bullet burrowed into the snow near Theta bolstering his hope. He launched into an assault of his own sweeping her sword wide several times but each time she was quick to regain her defenses and come back with her own counters. Another bullet flew in, this one striking her in the arm. She winced but was still quick enough to deflect his next series of strikes.

The assassin called upon the power of the sword with his will hoping the ancient artifact would respond and knowing his life depended on it. A golden aura surrounded it once more and he used it throw her back. Her face contorted into an irate expression of pure enmity as he tossed her against the hard ice wall and crunched her deeper into it. She struggled to get free of the invisible bindings but there was nothing she could do. The Dark Assassin spat and cursed him.

"Fucking cheat!"

"Perhaps you are unfamiliar with the creed," Leo laughed stepping out of the doorway holding his light machinegun.

"Nothing is true, everything is permitted," Julian said with a bow.

"Should I fill her with lead?" Leo asked with a wicked grin.

"No," Julian replied waving for him to put his gun down, "They'd probably just give her another body and send her hunting other Resistance members. We'll keep her alive."

"The Sword," Hassan said in amazement, "It worked for you! That was truly amazing my friend."

Julian cuffed Theta with the unbreakable Combine energy cuffs his Templar friends had given him and took her into the Temple. He tried to place the Sword in its rightful position but Hassan insisted he keep it for the time being incase Theta escaped or other Combine forces came looking for it. The assassin felt truly drained by the experience of using it though he was happy that the crisis had been averted. Jara tended his wounds as the wind of the tundra night howled beyond the Temple walls. He lay down soon after with his mind a torrential storm of thoughts. Fantasies about Jara filled his head, visions of his Father, of Yuki, memories of his Mother from when he was not yet even two. Allison's blue eyes, Hunter Synths and spider-turret droids deep within Aperture Science filled his mind. His life had been nothing but chaos thus far, chaos and danger. The night wind howled as the restless assassin sought sleep, caught between awake and dream.


	14. Chapter 14: Demons

Chapter Fourteen: Demons

Theta opened her pale eyes and scanned the area in search of the assassins who had captured her. She swept both the ordinary visual spectrum and the thermal spectrum but found no sign of them. Nothing remained of the residual warmth often left behind by their presence. Her dark mind swirled with thoughts. Normally she was of one thought, of one goal, of one mission. Her heart was always in each task, as dark a heart as it was. Now, though, she was left to dwell within rather than without. Her mission had failed and there was little she could do to remedy that. The energy cuffs that bound her, she knew, were unbreakable and the electronic key was hanging on Julian's belt.

A question crossed her mind as her ears picked up the faint sound of voices. She was startled by the clarity her ears offered her and the fact that the assassins had made no noise, their steps silent as they approached. She wondered why Julian had not killed her and she found that same question dwelling on the lips of the female assassin Jara.

"Why do you keep her alive even now?" The fiery young assassin asked, "She is probably planning her escape!"

"Killing her would be pointless," Julian argued, "The Combine would just download her into another body. She would end up in Coldwind and probably end up here."

"Are they likely to send another assassin?" Leo asked, more concerned with any enemy that wasn't hand-cuffed and tied up.

"Eventually," Julian theorized, "Once they realize that Theta has failed. Which is another reason to keep her alive - they probably have her vitals monitored at all times and if she were to die they would know she failed.

"I still say it is a mistake," Jara said starting out loud and boisterous but tapering off into a softer tone, "But nothing is true, and everything is permitted."

"When will we need to leave?" Hassan asked as his daughter walked away to clear her head, "When will they send the next super-assassin?"

"I don't know," Julian admitted, "Soon."

"The weather will clear tomorrow," Hassan noted, "We will need to be gone before the storms return in a week."

"Then we leave tomorrow," Julian agreed, "To protect the Sword."

"It will be a shame to abandon this temple," Leo lamented as Hassan too walked away, "I have called it home for many years."

"Time for a change of scenery then," Julian said patting him on the shoulder, "And warmer weather as well."

Theta listened to the nigh silent footsteps of Leo as he stepped away from Julian. The towering assassin was the only one she could actually hear walking. Julian, she noted, was entirely quiet as he made his way through the corridors. She saw him coming toward her a few moments later. Down the stone tunnel with silent steps he came toward the place where she had been tied to a small ornately carved loop that was part of a massive ten ton stone block. She felt bile rise in her throat as the assassin's almond eyes became visible. Even in sight of her they were still so pleasant, so bright, and so pure. The assassin's mind was not tainted by the stain of darkness and she felt revolted by him. She hissed as he crouched beside her and offered her a can of food with a spoon.

"They don't have much of anything good up here," he laughed, "just the type of shit that lasts for years. If the cold doesn't kill you, the preservatives will."

"Why have you kept me alive?" She asked, though the venom she had attempted to put in her tone was lost for some reason.

"Death is too easy an escape for you," Julian admitted, "From one body into another, an endless fight I do not care for. This way, imprisoned, you can never kill any of my friends again. You can languish in a cell with your inner demons haunting you forever."

"Fuck you!" She spat the beans he had spoon-fed her all over his face.

"You can try to anger me all you want Theta," Julian replied with dead-pan stoicism, "I will not lift blade or fist against you in your helpless state."

Julian walked away, leaving Theta's blood to boil.

Allison knocked at the door. Her deep blue eyes beamed with vigor as she tapped her knuckles gently at the door. She gulped nervously as the door opened and a nurse, who she recognized from the Hospital two days ago, ushered her in. She saw Desmond sitting there hunched over a table littered with papers and documents of all kinds. The General turned to her and Allison nearly blushed when she saw his face brighten at the sight of her. He was clean shaven now and it was the first time she'd ever truly admired how handsome a face he had. She could see which features of his had been passed to his son, a man she was also longing top see. She put Julian from her mind and shook Desmond's hand.

"Glad you could make it Allison," Desmond said with a smile, his voice, however, was barely even audible.

"Now now," the nurse scolded, "No speaking."

Allison nearly burst out laughing when she saw Desmond roll his eyes at the nurse's comments. The elder assassin grabbed a pile of notes he had been working on and showed her the first one. The note asked her if she would be his translator, a task she was more than prepared for. Desmond had scheduled a meeting with the Mayor of City 12, a General who called himself Baron Brown. Already Desmond had sent word requesting a meeting and a count of City 12's citizens. Desmond hadn't had time to notice how big and sprawling the City had become. He had assumed its soldiers to number twenty thousand but Baron Brown had sent him the Citizen Count, eighty thousand and the soldier count, fifty thousand. More than twice the number he had hoped for in his wildest dreams.

They arrived at the rendezvous point a few moments later, the ruins of the City 12 Citadel. The core of the Citadel had erupted only a few hours after the most massive Resistance evacuation in history but rather than explode outwardly it had imploded leaving the city essentially intact. Resistance scientists had attempted to figure out the Quantum phenomenon involved but to no avail.

The Baron, an eccentric fellow wearing regal robes and of ethnicity too mixed to be determined, met them at the base of the Citadel. His body-guards, Desmond noted by the marks on their ring fingers, were assassins, all except one. Allison got started quickly with the questions, having had time to organize Desmond's notes on the jeep-ride across the City.

"Greetings Baron Brown," Allison started nervously, "I am Allison Rogue…. Su-su-subject name here, subject 27. Allison Rogue. Sorry, I'm a bit nervous. I will be speaking for General Miles today."

"Fine," the Baron, a bit perplexed at her stuttering fit, said, "What does the General want to discuss?"

"As you know Clear Water base, once the hub of the Resistance, fell to the Combine a short time ago. The General believes it is imperative that we retaliate."

"Retaliate eh? Maybe he should have thought about that before he decided to waste his man power defending a death trap against sixty thousand Combine Overwatch. He strode in here with barely three hundred men and women alive."

"What happened at Clear Water is a tragedy," Allison replied finding the note corresponding to the response the Baron was giving, "But we must not let the deaths of the brave men and women who died there be in vain. We must strike against the Combine but we need City 12 to lead the charge."

"City 12 is only successful because we don't lead any charges," the Baron pointed out, "We are safe because we don't bother them unless they bother us. We are an oasis amidst the chaos."

"And if the Combine comes here, with sixty-thousand, eighty-thousand, MORE?" Allison asked, winging it and honestly outraged, "The time has come to stop hiding, to stop sitting idly by. Our species will be dead in a decade it we do not fight now as hard as we can."

"What kind of assault are your proposing?" Baron Brown asked.

"The kind that will destroy a Citadel and a suppression field," Allison replied going back to the notes once more, "The closest Citadel, the suppression field that keeps City 12 from reproducing is the Citadel at Golgotha. Not only would taking the prison end the suppression field for more than a five hundred mile radius and allow us to breed again it would let us free many Resistance soldiers who wallow in their cells thereby bolstering our numbers."

"It is very risky though," the Baron argued, "Golgotha is no ordinary Citadel. There are nearly twenty-thousand prisoners there and thousands upon thousands of guards. I will need some time to talk to my advisors."

"Very well," Allison agreed seeing that Desmond was nodding, "You know how to reach us when you've made a decision."

"I will send word and we will discuss this further, when your voice is better and you are not being led by a child like a blind man on a leash."

Allison felt a wave of sadness as the Baron walked away but Desmond's expression was one of hope. Never in a million years had he expected the talk to go so well. He had thought for sure that the Baron would refuse him the assistance he needed. Now there was a chance that he could command an army of thousands against Golgotha, take the Citadel there. With that Citadel gone City 12 would be able to breed again and the human race would have a chance to, behind the safe walls of the city, rebuild and bide their time. Desmond hated thinking of the first new lives to be born as fresh meat to be used in war but that was the only way they would ever truly be free of the Combine. To destroy the suppression field would bring new life to a dying world.

Julian paced the perimeter of the Temple. True to Hassan's word the weather was crystal clear as the sun slowly set over the frigid tundra. The young assassin wasn't cold though, the HEV suit, he found, had a warming feature though the battery that powered the suit was likely to drain if he continued using it. He only used it when absolutely necessary to keep the cold out.

He knew that they had more to worry about than the icy temperature. The Combine were likely to guess, at any moment, that Theta's mission was a failure. Julian was on the look-out for any new threats, whether it be a simple squad of Combine Overwatch or a set of super-deadly assassins. Perhaps even a hunter synth or another cyborg. Julian thought back to the fight against Omicron. The technology the Combine had used had gone down without too much of a fight but if Julian knew one thing about the Combine it was that they always upgraded. Omicron might have been a simple proto-type and nothing more.

The other thing on his mind was the long journey home. From here, even if they found a vehicle, it would likely take weeks to get to City 12, back to his Father, and Shephard, and Allison. His duty to the human race, to the Resistance, had already brought him half way around the world, far from the comfort of friends and family. Friends - the idea was almost foreign to him. Most of his friends ended up dead. Giovanni, one of his closest friends throughout the years had met an end in the fight at Black Mesa. Aside from Giovanni the young assassin had only one true life-long friend. Adrian Shephard.

"He's a good soldier," a voice hissed smoothly.

Julian turned to see the G-Man standing - or was he hovering? - in the snow beside him.

"How is it that you know what I am thinking?" Julian asked, feeling that his mind had been violated. The G-Man, in response, merely lifted the Apple of Eden that he carried in his hand, "Is there anything that a Piece of Eden cannot do?"

"Their power is limited only as you perceive it to be," the G-Man explained, "If you seek it to be a tool to control the masses, than it is that. If you seek to use it to strike against an enemy, to lift her above the snow and incapacitate her, it can do that. If you use it to appear in any location at any time, it does that as well Mister Miles."

"So that's how you get from place to place," Julian realized with eyes wide, "Kind of takes the magic out of it. Like if Santa Claus drove a Mustang instead of a magic sleigh."

"Clever Mister Miles but we haven't the time for fun and games," the G-Man scolded though his voice remained monotone and rhythmic, "The Resistance is planning an assault on Golgotha. That is where your friend, Shephard, is being held."

"What can I do?" Julian asked, "I'm half way around the fucking-"

"You understand then, don't you?" the G-Man asked with a chuckle, "Merely WILL yourself, and any in your party who you wish to take with you and the Piece of Eden will respond. I warn you, Mister Miles, it will drain you so, be wary of what location you will yourself into."

"It doesn't seem to drain you, it-" Julian turned to see that the man was gone, "I change my mind, even if I know how he does it, its still fucking spooky."

Desmond tried to run but the horror in her expression, the agony behind her eyes, compelled him to stay. Even as she lifted the knife he didn't move away, he held her gaze hoping his eyes would burrow through her and find her deep within the swirling torrent of her madness. He slipped away from the first blow she attempted to land, calling out to her as she lifted the knife again. She was fast, almost too fast for the middle-aged assassin to avoid. Her spring loaded legs, altered by the Combine's sinister experiments, sped her toward him as he finally submitted to the urge to run.

He turned as the bullets began to fly, thinking himself a goner if she had found a gun. His horror was complete when he saw one of the bullets, fired from a guard's gun, burry itself into her leg. She collapsed to the ground, growling and gnashing her teeth. Desmond ran to her and called off the guards in the loudest voice his injured throat could muster. He was lucky that they hadn't been better marksman. Allison was lucky she had been moving as fast as she was. Desmond wrestled the knife from her hand as she growled and spat obscenities.

"Fucking Vietcong pigs! I'll gut every last one of you cunt-sucking ass-fucking godless sons of bitches!"

"What the hell is she talking about?" One of the guards asked once he had confirmed that Desmond was alright.

"They must have had her in the Animus for weeks at a time," Desmond said though the guard didn't seem to know what he was talking about, "Get a medic for her leg, the bullet only grazed her. She isn't to be punished for what she tried to do."

Desmond watched as they carted her away. He had to wonder what horrors her eyes had seen in those jungles and how young she had been when the Combine had strapped her down and sent her into a war zone all to further their diabolical plans somehow. His fists tightened. As bad an enemy as Abstergo and the Templars had been the Combine were about a billion times worse. He would make them pay.

Shephard squinted as light returned to his eyes. He thought for a moment that he recognized the figure in the doorway, that it was Desmond or Julian come to rescue him. The shimmer of light that passed over well shined boots and the resoundingly loud footsteps shook him from that illusion. It was no angel come to save him, just another Demon here in this Hell. The Combine soldier grabbed him by the hair and dragged him screaming from his cell. The once proud Colonel felt a tear trickle from his eye as the soldier pushed him into the test chamber.

"Gas him again," a Stalker beside the soldier said, "Then release him into the general population. We've learned all we can from this one, for now."

Shephard rammed the glass walls of the chamber as hard as his fatigued muscles could muster. It was no use though. Already the ventilation system was pumping in the gas, a chemical which forced him to tell the truth to any question they might have asked. All the resistance the military had built into him during his training and all the will-power he could summon up from within could do nothing against the gas. He spit in the direction of the Combine soldier running the test and watching the spit smear down the glass as the world around him blurred.

"Now," the Combine soldier's voice said over the inter-com, "We're going to have one last discussion about Desmond, the Resistance, and the Pieces of Eden."

"Are you sure we should take her with us?" Jara asked nodding her head toward the corridor where Theta was kept, "If this is going to sap your strength, and her legs will be unbound."

"We can keep her legs bound," Julian conceded, "She won't get loose."

"It just seems awfully risky," Jara argued, "Especially if we are teleporting directly into the middle of a Resistance stronghold."

"I can think of much more risky places to teleport with her," Julian rebutted, "Now are you coming with me or not?"

Jara blushed suddenly. She felt flustered. Julian was an enigma to her. He was so bold, so impulsive, his mind made up on every decision he made. Ever since he arrived he had been directing things more so than her Father or Leo and she had to admit him taking the initiative was as attractive a quality as it was a major source of her frustration. She nodded her head in agreement and started back toward her room to prepare her things.

Julian approached Theta noting immediately that the rope that bound her to the heavy stone had been broken. And yet the dark assassin had not run or attempted to kill him yet. She sat still, motionless, her pale eyes shut. Julian unsheathed the blade and warily came closer to the woman he considered his arch-nemesis, if he were to have one. She let out a deep breath and only then did Julian realize she was asleep.

"It is too bad you're evil," Julian joked softly as he examined the rope, "Because you're honestly kind of cute when you sleep."

"I'll end your life!"

Theta struck out with a sharp wedge of rock she had found and placed between her toes. Julian had expected the trap, of course, and he had the leg pinned against the wall and the Sword of Eden's razor edge against her throat in moments.

"I would draw no pleasure from killing you," Julian admitted, "Even if killing you truly meant the death of your mind as well."

Theta wondered if he knew her secret, if the assassin had guessed that she was on her last life as far as the Combine was concerned. Her hatred for the assassin, either way, was trumped by her desire not to face oblivion. She dropped the stone and let her leg fall. She allowed Julian to bind her legs once more with a rope.

"My shoulders ache," she complained.

"Perhaps you would prefer death?" Julian asked and Theta shrugged, the action clearly causing her pain.

"Life in a cell or death," Theta lamented, "Not a pleasant choice, though perhaps it is a choice I do not deserve to make."

"What do you mean?"

"Clearly I have done wrong by you," Theta explained, "You have every right to end my existence forever and you have the ability."

"Are you saying the Combine would not transfer you to another body?" Julian asked with a confused expression on his face.

"I do not know," the dark assassin admitted with a sigh, "I do not want to risk fining out. I won't attempt to harm you again."

"That would be a wise decision," Julian said standing her up and carrying her toward the main chamber. He met Jara and the others there.

"Leo and I have decided to stay behind," Hassan said, "the more people you take with you the weaker you will be upon arriving."

"That's the gist of what the government man told me," Julian agreed, "You won't stay in the Temple will you?"

"No," Leo explained, "We plan on leaving tonight soon after you do. We'll take the long road back to civilization. We will see you in City 12 before too long."

"Very well friend," Julian said with a smile, "Though I think we assassins would be better off sticking together."

"Take care of yourself," Hassan said, "And take care of my daughter."

"With all due respect," Julian said with a laugh, "I think she can take care of herself."

"Indeed," Hassan agreed, "She is as skilled an assassin as they come. Be careful and good luck."

Julian lifted the Sword of Eden into the air and stood between Jara and Theta. He closed his eyes attempting to attune himself to the Sword. Suddenly a golden glow enveloped the three of them and soon enough they vanished from sight.

"Allison, I want to talk," Michael begged banging on the door to Allison's allotted apartment.

"Go away! I don't want to hurt anyone!" She yelled from within.

"I'll break down this door young lady!" Michael yelled lowering his shoulder and running into the door to let her know he was serious.

The door opened a few moments later and she rushed into his arms. She was barely over five feet tall, her figure vanishing in his embrace. Tears streamed in gallons like water from a shattered dam down her lovely cheeks from her brilliant blue eyes. She turned back and gestured for him to come into her apartment before slumping down into an old chair. Allison averted her oceanic eyes away from his, a sudden flash of memory returning her to another ancestor, to another time, before once again flashing her back to the present.

"I feel so fucking broken," she cried, "I'll never be a whole person, not after what they did. I'm a hundred different people now, every ancestor they probed, every time they forced me to revisit. The heartache of hundreds within one mind. Do you know what that's fucking like!"

"No," Michael admitted fighting off tears at seeing her like this, "But I know that you don't have to face those demons alone."

"I almost killed Desmond today," she said, her tone suddenly calm, "I almost killed one of my only friends in the entire world."

"It wasn't your fault," Michael pleaded.

"I should just end my life now, before any more of the people I know get hurt," Allison said standing up and rummaging through a nearby drawer, "Where's a gun when you need one!"

"Allison."

"My name isn't Allison. That's the name you gave me. I'm subject twenty-seven Michael, that's all I ever was. Just a fucking science experiment living a fucking meaningless existence. I should have never imagined I could be more. I can never have a life, never have love. Sometimes you can't fix people, sometimes, just like a machine, they have to be sent to the scrap-yard."

"No one is sending you to the scrap-yard," Michael said trying to calm her down, "there are people who care about you."

"Name one besides you."

"Desmond."

"The guy I tried to murder, great," she laughed, "remind me again why he should give a shit whether I live or die."

"What about Julian?"

"Julian?" Allison scoffed, "That poor guy nearly got killed trying to save you so that I could have my best friend back. The poor guy is probably dead now."

"That's not true," Michael argued.

"How the hell do you know?" Allison yelled.

"Because I'm standing right here," Julian interrupted.

Allison turned her sad blue eyes toward him and felt shame sweep through her. She hated him seeing her like this. She limped her way toward him, her leg still sore from the graze of the bullet earlier. Julian leapt across the room to save her the trouble and wrapped her in a warm hug.

"I have something of yours," she said, "Something I saved from Clear Water."

She led him to a chest in her apartment. Julian bent to open it finding his assassin robes, sword and standard assassin armor safely tucked inside. He stood with a smile on his face as he took it out.

"I thought you'd be angry if I left it behind," she said wiping her eyes.

"I'm glad you kept it. Traveling using that Sword gave me one hell of a headache. Thank you, Allison," Julian said kissing her gently on the cheek, "We'll talk more soon but right now I need to rest. Just know that there are people who do care about you."

Julian left shortly after promising he would return to see her before too long. Allison felt strange after seeing him. She had been attracted to him ever since she found him hanging upside down in one of their traps. Now, however, he was something more than just a handsome face that dropped by from time to time. He was her friend and in his presence she didn't feel as broken inside. She collapsed into her bed and stared up at the ceiling. Perhaps living with her demons wouldn't be so bad, so long as he was around.


	15. Chapter 15: Memory Corrupted

Chapter Fifteen: Memory Corrupted

Theta entered her cell reluctantly but obediently. Julian had dropped her off with the City 12 guards, a group of Resistance soldiers who had chosen a life of guarding primarily other citizens. Most of those in the cells she had passed had been Resistance members at one time and only a handful of actual Combine soldiers had even been captured here. She could have broken the ropes on her legs easily and likely have escaped by using her legs to strangle the guards. But to escape the prison was not to escape City 12. From what she had seen of it as they brought her in it was crawling with Resistance. Even a stealthy shadow like herself would be hard pressed to escape unnoticed and uninjured. There was something else compelling her to stay other than the immediate dangers posed to her physical well being - for once she had no where to go. There was no mission compelling her. There was no call of duty to her Empire. In fact it seemed her Empire would abandon her, even kill her, if she returned to them empty handed.

The only hope remaining for the dark assassin was to get the Sword of Eden from Julian. It would not be an easy task considering the power the device seemed to posses. She collapsed into her cell with a growling sigh as a wave of helplessness overcame her. For once in her short life she felt indecisive. It hadn't been long since the Combine had activated her, only a few months since her first mission, barely a year since her creation. Her mind was a swirling torrent of uncertainty as she came to terms with her imprisonment and the fact that even if she did escape she had nowhere to turn. Theta Dark didn't have a friend in the world. In truth she'd never needed one. But now, looking at life imprisonment or life on the run as her only choices, she was wishing that she had one.

She spat on the floor of her cell, angry, made bitter by her circumstances. None of the paths before her pleased her. She watched the time move by, her mind a mess, often blank and sometimes filled with wild thoughts. Memories flooded into her that weren't even hers. Normally her sense of duty washed them away but now they invaded her mind unabated. Dreams of children she never had, of lovers she never knew, haunted her when sleep came. Even in the day time the visions happened. The dark assassin felt as though she was going mad. What was she? Who was she? What had the Combine created her out of?

Julian approached the door tentatively. He'd been in the city for a week but he'd spent most of that time with Allison helping her adjust to a life amongst so many other people. It hadn't been an easy time for her. Being around so many new faces and personalities seemed to trigger the memories that still haunted her from hours of Animus sessions. She had very few memories of the Animi themselves though hints she dropped whilst hardly coherent suggested that from the time she was thirteen onward they had her strapped to an Animus for eighteen hours a day. Another three hours were spent testing her physical abilities, it was during this time that her legs had been removed and replaced with cybernetic ones allowing her to run fast.

Now he was standing outside his Father's apartment hoping the old man would forgive him for not paying him more attention. The young assassin tapped on the door gently but quickly found the courage to push it open and head inside. He found his Father within surrounded by other Resistance leaders. Most of the faces he saw were unfamiliar to him, although General Cartwright stopped him to make a few lewd comments about how she could use a young stud like him to storm her trenches. Many in the room had bloodshot eyes. Julian knew they were planning to take Golgotha, a Combine Citadel turned prison.

"Dad," he said reaching the main table, upon which many maps were strewn, "I want to talk. Is this a bad time?"

"No," Desmond said offering a smile that Julian found very uncharacteristic of him, "We could use your help planning this thing."

"I want to talk about something else," Julian said shaking his head, "About this."

The young assassin partially unsheathed the Sword of Eden and saw that his Father was familiar with the object. Desmond stood and apologized to the other Resistance leaders before ushering his son out into the hall. The look on his face was one of complete panic.

"Where the hell did you get that?" He asked, seemingly irate.

"Up North, what used to be Canada I think," Julian explained, "I saved it from falling into the hands of the Combine."

"Good," Desmond said, though he still seemed on edge.

"Do you know where the other ones are?" Julian asked and he noted his Father's face on the brink of fury.

"Why?" Desmond asked with tightening fists.

"Because we can use them, if there are enough of them we could win the wa-"

"No! Are you fucking stupid? I thought I raised you to have more brains than that. If they fall into the wrong hands, if we fight with them and lose-"

"How could we lose?" Julian asked interrupting his Father's tirade.

"The same way we lost at Coldwind," Desmond explained, now quiet and distant, "The same way we lost at White Sands."

"White Sands?"

"We thought we could go there, we thought the military would join the Resistance," Desmond elaborated, his tone hushed and his eyes down as though he couldn't face his son, "Your Mother, she'd been using one of the Pieces of Eden to fight the Combine.. I warned her not too, it drains you and the power, it corrupts, it makes you careless. She thought she could hold the Combine off, she thought it'd be an easy victory."

"Did you lose the battle?" Julian asked, the fire suddenly gone from his voice too.

"No," Desmond replied on the verge of tears, "We lost her."

"You, you never told me exactly how she died," Julian said, a lone tear making its path down his cheek, "I didn't know."

"I vowed I wouldn't use that Piece of Eden," Desmond said, his fists now tight and his voice once more filled with ire, "That bastard in the blue suit was the one who gave to me in the first place. We can't use them son, it wouldn't end well and it might not even end the war."

"But we can't just sit around and let the Combine get them," Julian argued, "They probably know the location of more than just the sword Dad and if they don't already, they have people in their custody who do."

"Shephard won't talk," Desmond assured.

"And Yakamoto?"

"Let's hope for all our sakes that he didn't tell them anything either," Desmond said, "Now come on, we'll get something to eat and then work on the siege plan… together."

Shephard scanned the line for friendly faces. Most of the people he saw he didn't recognize. Many of those in the line were citizens. How strange it seemed that the Combine would keep them alive. For what reason would the Combine keep simple citizens, who couldn't have known anything all that crucial about the Resistance, alive? Shephard shook the questions from his mind as the guards behind him pushed him along towards the end of the line. At the end was a particularly nasty looking machine. Shephard knew what it was too. In his younger days he ran missions rescuing citizens from prisons. They would always try to get to them before they went through the tagging machines. Before the microchips were embedded beneath their skin marking them as permanent Combine property.

Shephard winced as the chip slipped beneath the surface of his skin not out of any physical pain but out of the realization that he'd just lost his identity and his liberty. He was now a serial number in the sterile system, the ever-mighty Combine machine that had consumed the planet. The guard pushed him into the main population yard, a sprawling room with a massively high ceiling that served as a squalid holding cell for the majority of inmates during the day. At night each of them was trapped in an eight by twelve cell. The conditions in the main yard weren't much better, with space between inmates being so small and privacy being completely impossible. The grizzled warrior had seen battle and had even been a prisoner of the Combine once before. He'd fought alien and man alike. But Golgotha was as low as he'd ever been.

Yet here amongst what the Combine deemed as swine, as a species barely worth preserving, and even then only as a work force, were heroes. Their faces were worn and tired, the shimmer had gone out of their eyes, but Shephard could see the simmering fire deep beneath the soulless stare that had consumed their gaze. Those that were Resistance members carried scars, marks of battles fought long ago, against the enemy they were now subjugated by.

The Colonel got in line for a meal hoping that the food wouldn't be the end of him. It was awful and entirely unidentifiable even to a man used to eating in a post-apocalyptic world. Still it was sustenance and every bite would bring him a little more strength and strength would get him through his ordeal. He continued to watch the prisoners as he ate and he quickly realized that many of them had lost their dignity in here. Fights broke out over food, or dirty looks and the Combine soldiers did nothing to stop two inmates from killing one another. In moments like this even Adrian Shephard had to wonder what redeeming qualities the human race had left to offer.

"You're Shephard aren't you?" a voice chimed from behind.

Shephard turned to see a young man he hadn't ever seen in his life. Beside the man a woman stood and despite being caked with filth and looking nearly starved to death her beauty still managed to shine through. She beamed a radiant smile that seemed to light up the entire room.

"Yep, that's me," Shephard replied shaking the man's hand, "You are?"

"Atticus. Gregory Atticus the second. My Father served under you during the Battle of City 12," the young man explained, "And this is Jennifer Grey."

"You must be barely even twenty," Shephard exclaimed, "Incredible."

"I was born three days after the Combine arrived, in an area with no suppression field," Greg boasted, "They called me a miracle baby for a long time, at least my Dad did, before he died."

"I'm sorry to here that son," Shephard said.

"It's okay, hey, let me and Jen show you around and you can regale me with old war stories about my Dad," Greg suggested.

"Don't get me started," Shephard said with a sigh.

The pain was so intense she could hardly fathom it. Her entire mind had gone blank, escaping into deep shock, receding from reality as the agony wracked through her body. She knew it was coming from the base of her neck, from something inside her, shooting through her like infectious death, rolling over her. She heard words fill the air though she knew not that her own lips had made them. And then darkness took her.

Theta opened her eyes hours later to the sight of concerned faces all around. The pain was still there though it was certainly lessened. She studied the somewhat blurry faces of those that watched her but only one seemed familiar. She smirked as she watched the assassin's almond eyes dart to and fro. Julian was speaking to several men who looked more like soldiers than doctors. She felt hope drain from her. Perhaps the assassin had finally decided to show his dark streak and end her existence. Death was her next stop, she thought, the oblivion and decay and emptiness of non-existence. Even if an after-life awaited her it was more likely one in which her mind was transported into another assassin body and she was made a slave to the Combine once more rather than the pleasant fantasies most religions had conjured to comfort themselves about death. She recoiled as the assassin approached.

"Theta," the assassin started, and though his face was still blurry his words were entirely clear, "How are you feeling?"

"Like a thousand blades are rushing through me," she replied.

"Poetic," Julian said with a shrug, "is there any way to help her Doctor?"

"The pain seems to be stemming from this anomaly we imaged in her neck," the doctor, dressed more as a man of war than medicine, replied.

"The chip!" Theta exclaimed suddenly, "They are trying to kill me remotely, trying to activate the failsafe. Cut the fucking thing out!"

"Will it work Doc?" Julian asked.

"It might, or it might kill her," The Doctor explained.

"Just do it," Theta moaned, "Just fucking do it."

"I guess we go through with it then," the Doctor shrugged.

"She's already killed some of my closest friends," Julian said, "I'd say I'm prepared to take some risks with her life and if she's not at all against it that works too."

Theta fell from consciousness again. Her mind went to a dark place, a place of shadows and obsidian mist. She was in a place where those memories that were not her own had taken root. In this dark place she was no longer one person. Her multi-core personality split apart for those hours she was under and only came back together again when at last her eyes were opened. At first she thought she was dead, the bright light of the operating table reminded her much of the sterile bed where the Stalkers would make sure a new assassin body was taking to an imprinted personality. She saw Julian though and wondered how long the assassin had stayed there at her bedside waiting for her to wake. She watched him silently though her usual contempt for him seemed lessened. She had so few reasons to hate him now that the Combine was no longer in control of her. Still, she reminded herself, he was the one who had defeated her, captured her and thrown her into prison. She stifled her anger as the assassin approached, determined not to attempt to murder him and also noting that he had the Sword with him.

"Still convinced the Combine are the right people to be serving?" Julian asked holding up a jar with the micro-chip in it.

"Might makes right," Theta replied though her heart wasn't in the words, "Why didn't you let me die?"

"Did you want me to let you die?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm afraid," Theta admitted, "And now that the Combine has betrayed me I doubt I have a new body to transfer into."

"Afraid to die," Julian echoed, "Perhaps you are human after all."

"How much longer do I have to stay here?" Theta asked.

"You're to be transferred back to your cell tomorrow," Julian answered honestly, "But don't think of that as an invitation to try any-"

"I wouldn't," Theta explained, "Not while you have the Sword."

Theta watched him leave the room and wondered to herself why he had the Resistance Doctors save her life. Perhaps death was too easy an escape and Julian wanted to keep her locked away. It certainly made more sense to her than kindness. After all what the young assassin had said was true, Theta had killed some of his closest friends. Was Julian making sure she paid for it? Theta couldn't be sure of the young man's motives. She sat up and took a few sips from a cup of water nearby hoping it would be enough to sustain her as unconsciousness took her down once more. Before she knew what hit her she had fallen into that dark place of shattered memories.

Shephard stood in horror as he watched it happen, as the first of six Citizens were pushed into the ring. The being that stumbled out from the other end of the Arena was truly a horror to behold. A twisted creature like some cross between a squid and a bull with a mouth full of razor teeth and covered in writhing tentacles. It was just the sort of thing he'd seen in Black Mesa, that day the whole world went to shit. The Citizens were locked in fear in one corner of the arena, until a Combine soldier stunned them into the center with his baton. Shephard had seen a great deal of cruelty, but this was just sick. Hundreds of Combine guards littered the stands of Golgotha Square, the name given to the arena of death where thousands of Citizens and Resistance soldiers had met their end. He turned beside him to where Jenifer and Gregory sat. Jen was broken up, tears streamed down her face but the expression on Greg's face was all the more heart-breaking, just a dead-pan stare as if he wasn't seeing the horror but looking past it.

"You get used to it after a while," he admitted, "Everything gets numb inside."

"Have you ever had to fight?" Shephard asked, turning away as one of the citizens was dragged into the creature's gaping maw.

"Once," the young man admitted, "I was lucky, I only had to fight a few zombies. This is why they say the only way out is a body bag."

"Wait a damn second," Shephard said, "That could work - I mean what if we pretend to die? We could get sent out?"

"They have bio-sign detectors," another former Resistance member chimed in, "Wouldn't work, I've seen others try it, most of them end up as new zombies for the Arena. Better really dead than living dead I say."

Shephard watched the display of violence before him and felt sick to his stomach. There had to be a way out, he wouldn't relinquish hope. It was a difficult flame to fan with the distraught faces and hopeless attitudes of so many inmates weighing him down. Even his new friends seemed to have accepted their fates. Shephard wouldn't accept his fate. He hadn't survived Black Mesa and spent nearly two decades at war to give up now.

Julian watched Allison closely as she went through her kata. He had been teaching her some very basic martial arts hoping the breathing patterns and tranquil disciplined movements would calm her and help her control herself better. She'd been making remarkable improvement. For the past two and a half days she hadn't once relapsed in memory nor had a bleed-through effect in which past lives intruded upon her daily activities. She had been entirely coherent and entirely Allison. Julian loved seeing her like this. She beamed with happiness at having control of her mind and full function of her memory.

There were darker consequences of this. Regaining her memory meant that what the Combine did to her had become all too clear. Every moment of her childhood, once blocked entirely from her mind, had slowly been returning to her since her therapy with Julian had begun. Even before she had been forced into those horrible memory machines the Combine had been testing her, forcing her to run drills, testing her mental endurance to torture, feeding her computerized illusions about watching her entire family being killed. Now she knew the truth, she had no family. Her real Father and Mother were some anonymous involuntary donors. The Combine had stolen their genetic make-up to create her, to create someone they knew they could exploit. To create a child they could take advantage of. She had unwittingly helped them, uncontrollably been their ally as they tested human weaknesses and endurance and probed her mind and the minds of her ancestors for valuable information.

The one silver lining in all this was knowing who she was and with Julian's handsome face and caring guidance to distract her from the dark parts of the ordeal she was now well on her way to being, at least somewhat, normal. She finished her kata and bowed to Julian.

"Good," Julian congratulated her.

"Now can I have a hug?" she asked and Julian opened his arms wide for the embrace, "You know what?"

"What?" Julian asked.

"I remember when my birthday was," she announced with a wide-eyed look, "I remember seeing it on a chart somewhere, after they transferred me to Coldwind. August 19th 2017. UGH! What year is it?"

"We're not sure," Julian said trying to calm her down, "Most think it's about 2036 and October."

"I guess we missed it then," Allison said in a much calmer tone.

"That's alright," Julian said, "I got you something anyway."

"What is it? Jewelry? New clothes?"

Julian handed her a small chest. She opened it with bated breath but felt some slight disappointment when she saw what was within. A dagger, thin but clearly well made. She tried to summon a smile to thank him but failed to and hid her eyes.

"Not what you had in mind," Julian realized aloud, "I understand. I've never been much of a romantic. It's made from my old Hidden Blade, the one my Father gave me… It, it belonged to my Mother. I should be going though. My Father will want me at the meeting. You've been doing really well Allison. I'll see you later."

Allison tried to summon words to her lips, words of apology, words of gratitude, words of love, but they all slipped back down into the recesses of her soul. She heard the door close as he left and felt just awful.

"Great Allison," she said to herself, "the poor guy makes you a knife from his dead Mother's blade and you react like he handed you a pile of shit."

She felt herself drifting into darkness and anger but she refused the advances of madness and instead took a deep breath and began to repeat the motions Julian had taught her to calm herself. She wouldn't go back to that dark place.

Theta was back behind her bars but they were much more than physical. Within her mind was a prison she couldn't escape. All the skills she possessed, the vast arsenal of assassin talent that the Combine had created her with, and she was helpless to cure her own madness. She took a deep breath to center herself as best she could. She knew that she couldn't allow the darkness to consume her mind. What little sanity that remained had to be preserved. She may have been imprisoned physically but she was determined to be of one mind emotionally.

False memories flooded her, images that were not of her own making. She pushed them away. They were probably some failsafe, some shockwave of madness set to go off if the Combine kill chip was taken out before her death. She reached to the back of her neck feeling the scar from where the chip had been embedded within her. A flash of light filled her cell then and a siren sounded all around. She scratched her head and noted that her black hair had become streaked with strands of white. She wondered if the lights were all in her head, an elaborate hallucination perhaps. But the sound of boots on the concrete floor told her otherwise and the guards that went rushing past were all armed to the teeth.

The dark assassin wondered if the Combine had invaded City 12 to end her life. Her mind was, after all, brimming with knowledge about their plot. Even given the Empire's best attempts at cordoning information and keeping it from her she had still accumulated a great deal of their secrets. If she were to spill them to the Resistance it would likely mean the Combine would need to send more aliens to Earth. It would be the Seven Hour War again, super-portals splitting the skies to bring forth a second apocalypse. She wondered how long the Resistance would last in such an event. She wondered if the Earth would even survive it a second time.

The blazing siren screamed even after every soldier within the prison had run off to answer its call. Now there was but one man Theta could see. - One man in a blue suit adjusting his tie - She watched the peculiar man as he approached her cell, his footsteps, which should have been drowned out by the siren, seemed to cut through the noise. He bent down to the bars and offered her a smirk.

"Is this how the Combine treats their star assassins?" the G-man hissed with heavy emphasis on his S's.

"Who the hell are you?" Theta asked.

"You'd be surprised how many want the answer to that," the man said with a smirk, "Those that knew the answer, died."

"Do you know what this siren is about?"

"Merely something I did so that I would be able to have a word with you Miss Dark," the G-Man began, "You see the Combine may have discarded you but I have need of a woman with, well, your sort of talents. In return, I offer you your freedom."

"What do you need from me?" Theta asked, suddenly eager for freedom.

"How much do you know about Project Omega?"


	16. Chapter 16: Interference

Chapter Sixteen: Interference

Shephard awoke with a start. The night had brought him back to that dark place, back to Black Mesa. The ordeal of being imprisoned reminded him so much of being underground, beneath the New Mexico desert, trapped in a maze and surrounded by enemies from another world. It was bad enough that he had faced alien monsters in his time beneath the Mesa but black-ops units sent in to silence him and his squad had also entered that day with shoot-to-kill as their main priority.

The Colonel studied the faces of the prisoners as he went about his morning routine. He found that the walls had several grooves in them which allowed him to sneak in pull-ups while the guards weren't looking. He knew he couldn't allow himself to become weak, there was no telling how long he would spend in the confines of Golgotha but he was determined to stay fit and to keep his mind and body sharp. The guards, he knew, were watching closely. They had been keeping a close eye on him obviously aware of his value as a prisoner. Someone else was watching him today, a prisoner with dark skin and a tired expression and when Shephard finally took equal time to study the observer he found he couldn't believe his eyes.

"Instructor Barnes?" Shephard asked in exclamation at seeing his old Drill Instructor again, "You're alive!"

"Well I'll be damned," the man said with a grin, "Adrian Shephard. I thought it was you but I couldn't be sure. How in the Hell did you make it out of Black Mesa alive?"

"I'd like to say it was because of your training," Shephard joked, "but honestly all that military training was more a deficit than an advantage once the shit hit the fan."

"That's how it is," Barnes replied, "We try to instill order and discipline but when bullets start flying things become chaos."

"So you never joined the Resistance Sir?"

"Please Shephard, call me Dwight, I ain't your goddamn CO anymore," Barnes said and then his voice grew real quiet, "and don't mention the Resistance in here, they have this whole damn place bugged," the old military man lost his stern expression for only a moment before replying, "I never joined. When the Seven Hour War came we were overwhelmed, I was lucky to make it out with my life. I wanted to protect my children and I thought the best way to do that was to cooperate with the Combine. Boy was I wrong."

Barnes was one of the gruffest and bravest men that Shephard had ever met and yet as he recounted his hardships tears streamed down his face. He could barely speak when he spoke of how the Combine took his children away to work and live at a separate facility, a factory that spewed black smoke. Shephard recalled that the man was always puffing a cigar or a cigarette. They'd even seen him smoking a pipe on occasion. Yet here he was - a shell of a man. The Combine had truly destroyed the human race but not just physically, Shephard realized, emotionally as well.

"Sometimes they would let them visit us," Barnes said wiping his tears and trying to recompose himself, "at least for the first few years. Then… nothing; I haven't seen my children in twelve years Shephard. Twelve fucking years."

Shephard sat next to his old friend and patted him on the shoulder unsure of any words he could say to lessen the pain. Twelve years of agony were not going to yield to a few hollow platitudes or philosophical rehashes of tired human ideas of love and hope. Shephard felt just as devastated by it all as his former commanding officer. Even fighting in the Resistance did little to stifle the pain of seeing the world go to shit. If anything, Shephard realized, it was more frustrating. Seeing the world crumble to pieces even as you fight to hold it together was truly disheartening. Shephard knew that they could not allow hope to die altogether, for with the death of hope would come the death of the human race.

Footsteps, which Shephard quickly identified as the polished steps of Combine boots, forced the Colonel to turn around. A Combine Elite, dressed in finest white, stood menacingly above where he and Barnes were seated. Shephard tried to be bold. He stood with chest puffed proudly before the Elite.

"Colonel Adrian Shephard of the Resistance," he said with a proud salute and afterward spat on the soldier's helmet.

"This one will do nicely," the Elite said coldly to the three other Overwatch soldiers beside him, "Bring him."

Theta Dark was nearing her target and she was anxious for action. While she was happy to be out of the squalid cell in City 12 the journey to her destination had been a tedious one. She'd spent the last two days in search of Sigma. She knew little about her fellow Combine assassins and had gained only bits and pieces of the picture that was now developing. She'd always known, of course, that Theta was not the first. She was no proto-type. She wondered if Theta was truly a name worth going around with, after all she was no longer in the Theta assassin body and hadn't been for some time. She cast the idea from her skull shaking her dark black hair, streaked as it was with white, to get the cobwebs from her brain.

Sigma was likely to be a very skilled assassin and what the G-Man had told her of him only strengthened that suspicion. The mysterious man in the suit had also hinted as others, other super-assassins created by the Combine. According to him the Combine was working on a project called Omega meant to be the end of the super-assassin project, meant to forge something better than any assassin the Combine had conjured before. The idea would have excited Theta if she were still in the Combine's employ. Now she was a rogue with no allegiance save to the ones who could promise her more of what she wanted, more freedom. The Combine Empire had been all she ever knew, had given her all she ever had, but they had forgot to grant her freedom. Her mind was enslaved to the hive. Now, thanks to Julian and the others, she was free to choose her own path away from the craven insect song of the Combine. Her first act would be to stop Sigma from getting the Staff of Eden.

She was almost there, she new, almost to the Anasazi Temple where the true Assassins had hidden away a fragment of a forgotten Eden. She brought the Chopper down low to the sand watching the whirlwind of particles it created as she landed. She could already see the flashes of fire on the horizon. Combat had been joined. If she was to keep her promise to the enigmatic man in the blue suit she had to hurry. Theta had tasted failure before - she was determined not to taste it again.

Julian left the room feeling frustrated and sick to his stomach. He'd spent three futile hours attempting to convince his Father that the Templars should be involved in the Siege. The young assassin had to admit that such stubbornness was a characteristic of his Father and yet the resistance against his idea that the Templars should help seemed based more on prejudice than rational decision making. It was clear that Desmond still maintained a grudge against the Templars for the years that he spent in direct opposition to them. Lives were lost on both sides, Julian knew. Loved ones and families had been torn apart by the decisive groups and their once insatiable rivalry. Now, however, the human race faced an outward threat, something that should unite the, not divide them.

His angry thoughts vanished when he saw Allison and Jara walking down the hall toward him. They were so beautiful they almost seemed to glide down the hallway in slow-motion. Allison's cybernetic legs moved her faster and she was the first to reach Julian wrapping him in a warm hug. Julian blushed a bit before shaking hands with Jara who shot a glare at Allison for her display of affection that made her blush and even deeper shade than Julian. An awkward silence seemed to overtake them then with Julian ending up lost in Allison's eyes and Jara rolling her own.

"Well?" Jara said breaking the silence.

"Right," Allison agreed, suddenly reminded of why they came down here, "Jara and I were wondering if you wanted to go on patrol with us tonight. Riley is going to be there and Eric and the other Templars."

"Great," Julian said, "It's a date, just let me grab my stuff."

"It's not a date!" Jara shouted at Julian who had already slipped into his apartment.

An awkward silence once again consumed the hallway with Jara casting sarcastic glances at Allison and Allison attempting to stifle her embarrassment. She was adjusting well to life in the city. The urban environment was very different from the quiet life of setting traps and running for survival that she'd known with Michael. She felt a wave of guilt as she thought of her old friend. She hadn't visited him in three days. She cursed herself for being so pre-occupied with Julian and promised herself that she'd spend more time with Michael. All her worries seemed to melt as Julian stepped from his apartment in his full assassin garbs with his XM-8 at the ready, his silenced USP holstered and the gauntlet gun and hidden blade occupying both wrists. Aside from the arsenal he wielded Allison was concentrating on two other devastating assets, those almond eyes of his.

"Well ladies," Julian said with a smirk extending both his arms.

"I don't think my father would appreciate such a gesture," Jara protested, "I know I certainly don't."

"Fine," Julian said with a sigh and Allison let go of his arm with a disappointed sigh, "but I don't see why we have to be so professional about this. I mean we're going out on patrol sure but there are dozens of official City 12 patrols, the way I see it we three are just going for a walk in the woods, maybe down into the suburbs and through the park. Besides, nothing is true."

"Everything is permitted," Jara mumbled reluctantly finishing the Creed.

The three of them walked out. Allison clung to Julian's arm until they reached the city gates and met Riley and Eric. The wily old Resistance fighter's eyes lit up when he saw Julian again. Despite being in his mid-sixties Riley was every bit as sturdy as Julian though a bit shorter perhaps and with a tan that betrayed the amount of time the man had spent outdoors. He patted the assassin on the shoulder and immediately began spinning a yarn about the first time he'd ever killed an alien being, a vortigaunt who had teleported into his corn field. According to the story he'd used a combine to run over the creature. The old man cackled at the irony of using a combine to squash the combine as they walked out of the city gates and into the suburbs with thoughts more on each other than on any potential danger.

Shephard could hear the crowd roaring, he could hear the sound of limbs being torn off and blood rushing across the floor of the arena. He could smell the stench of death that had become so tragically familiar to him. War and bloodshed, whether against his fellow man or against the inhuman monsters that now oppressed them, had consumed his days. It was about more than mere survival for Shephard, it was about honor, it was about the right of his species to survive, to exist, to thrive. Now the dwindled in numbers despite the best efforts of men like him. Men like him. Men like him were the ones that had started this mess. Men like him were the ones that had intruded into alien worlds. Their true motives had been far from scientific, far from noble, they had wanted resources and wealth and nothing more.

Even now the hearts of man were greedy and dark, the chants in the crowd, many calling for the death of the arena combatants, testified to the true nature of man. Shephard knew there was good in them though and he could not allow the Combine to extinguish them. He was determined to make a difference even in this, even in being forced to fight for his life against whatever they put on the other side of that arena. He would fight and he would survive and show the Combine the perseverance of man. He froze and took a deep breath to calm himself. The sounds of battle beyond his holding cell had died away. They would come for him next.

The metallic doors before him screeched open with a sickening sound that shook him from his concentration. A Combine soldier pulled him out into the arena and hit him with his stun baton. Shephard took the blow with barely a flinch. The Colonel stood tall and proud and studied the faces in the crowd. Already there were a handful of chants calling for his death, booing him as though they'd surrendered their allegiance to humanity and accepted their fate as nothing but slaves. This fight would be for them, he told himself inwardly. The Combine soldier that had pulled him out into the light now undid the cuffs that bound the Colonel and scurried away above the stands of the arena.

The doors across from Shephard opened and out ambled the first opponent. Even the stoic military man blanched white with fear at the demon that greeted his eyes. It was a Poison Zombie. Shephard steeled himself as his foe, moaning incoherently, walked into the arena. Though it had no eyes to speak of and though Shephard made no discernable noise the abomination still seemed to sense him and it lurked forward toward him. Shephard knew he would need to be quick but he also knew that to even touch the Poison Headcrabs that covered his opponent could be a death sentence and would certainly leave him poisoned even if he did get the kill. His only option was to attack the man beneath, the frail creature that had been assimilated and absorbed into this monstrosity.

Shephard went for the legs. He slid into the creature's shins slipping beneath the toppling behemoth and coming out the other side unscathed. The zombie hit the dirt and the entire crowd gasped. Up the demon came casting a head crab in his direction. Shephard dodged it before using the four-legged creature as a springboard to jump from. Up he went and around came his leg landing a devastating blow. He held his breath and closed his eyes as his leg impacted the main head crab, poison spores lifted into the air. Shephard reeled back before he dared breathe again and looked down at the twitching head crab he'd jumped from.

The attack had been less than effective, barely even rousing a growl from his opponent. Shephard had an idea, he ran in close to the creature hoping that his proximity would dissuade it from throwing another head crab and instead provoke a melee attack. It worked and the Colonel managed to grab the zombie's wrist. The man beneath long was long dead but the demon that had taken over was quite strong. Shephard proved to be the stronger of the two as he bent the arm in and raked the claw of the zombie across the main head crab. The move had been risky and had gained Shephard a scratch across the right arm that was quite deep. Still the zombie had been left injured and was now staggering about throwing head crabs into the stands. The crowd gasped and screamed. At first Shephard worried that the Combine would allow the head crabs to escape into the population but a few shots later his fears were relieved.

It was now Shephard and the zombie, just one poison head crab remained and that was the main one that had control of the man beneath. With its ranged attack non-existent and its torso no longer armored by alien allies Shephard made fairly quick work of the zombie. The Colonel knocked the head crab off with one final kick and squashed it quickly. He stood tall before the crowd who now applauded and praised him. The Combine guards came to shackle him but Shephard did not resist, he knew that he had made his point.

Theta lifted her silenced assault rifle and fired a few rounds bringing the Overwatch to the sand below and watched the heat leave their bodies. Despite the whipping sands of the desert it hadn't taken her long to get near the Temple where Sigma and the rest of his team were but picking her way through the canyons and ruins and rugged landscape had been anything but easy. To make it harder Sigma had left behind small patrol groups of two or three Overwatch but with eyes that could see in the thermal spectrum these groups were like a trail of breadcrumbs. None of these soldiers posed the slightest threat to the quick moving shadow that was Theta Dark but if any so much as felt a wayward breeze they had the power to report it to Sigma. And Sigma already expected to be fighting stealthy assassins.

She lifted her binoculars and set her sights on the Temple complex below her. She could see Sigma now and to her ultimate surprise it wasn't a female body that she was looking at. Sigma was a male. She'd suspected, of course, that the Combine would not merely make female assassins but she hadn't any idea that Sigma was a male. A wicked smile grew on her lips. She had a brother, of sorts. Theta searched for a way down, moving silently toward her target. She had a brother and she was determined to keep that in the past tense.

She picked her shots well, picking off several Elites that weren't in sight of Sigma and getting even closer to him. She was now near enough to try her luck though the desert wind that swept through the canyon told her it would be no easy shot from this distance. She was an assassin, after all, and it would be far quicker to end his life from her safe perch behind the walls of a ruined building. She aimed down the scope mounted on her silenced rifle and quickly noted how little heat her younger brother was putting off. Something seemed different about his physiology from that exhibited by her own body. Sigma was complaining to the commander of his strike-team that they allowed the assassin's to escape with the Staff of Eden. Theta squeezed the trigger letting off three rounds. She could barely see the swath of heat they cut as they impacted Sigma. Three shots - three hits - center of mass.

Theta watched his reaction as she lined up and fired off three more rounds. Three more hits. Yet Sigma seemed barely bothered by them. She knew that her own physiology was designed to lessen the feel of pain, even to be numb to it for various lengths of time but Sigma seemed to not even notice the wounds. Theta lined up several more shots this time going for the head. All four rounds hit but Sigma wasn't stopped or even slowed, he began marching toward where the rounds originated from. Theta slipped from behind the wall throwing out a flash-bang grenade to blind her enemy. She hoped the bright flash of heat would blind both the thermal and visual spectrums of Sigma's eyes. She was right. She was able to flank him and take out most of his Strike Team before he regained his sight.

"Bravo," Sigma lauded, "You've managed to make quick work of my strike team Mu, or should I say, Theta. Theta Dark, I did always wonder about that last name, did you choose it or did the Stalkers choose it for you?"

"You know me?" Theta asked keeping her rifled trained on him.

"Why Theta, of course I know you, the Combine has briefed me on all of us," Sigma said with a haughty smirk, "Didn't they tell you? Didn't they trust Theta with the same information they gave me?"

"Enough," Theta said shaking her head to dispel her anger, "I came to get the Piece."

"Than you have failed your mission," Sigma pointed out into the desert, "The assassins have fled with it. They warned me I might encounter unexpected interference, I never dreamed it would be you."

"There was one other thing I was sent to do," Theta said offering a smile of her own, "Kill you."

"Be my guest," Sigma said, "the sooner I kill you the sooner I can pursue the Staff."

Sigma bowed as though accepting the challenge but as he stood back up Theta could see he was now brandishing a pistol. He fired off several shots only one of which managed to impact Theta. The round tore into her stomach and sent a trickle of black blood to the desert sand below. The physical effect was only minor pain and an insignificant wound but the emotional effect of seeing her blood run black was almost more than she could bear. She wasn't even truly human! Images of false memories compacted, fractals of lives she'd never lived, intruded on her in an instant. In that instant Sigma rushed forward with pistol drawn. He emptied the magazine with seven rounds finding their place against Theta's flesh. He was upon her then but by that time she had snapped from the shadows and lifted her weapon. She fired one shot, just one, into the base of his neck, as his fist plowed into her face. Theta was sprawled against the sand.

Theta got to her feet as quick as she could. Her body was wracked with pain. She saw Sigma, twitching in the sand, trying to find his feet. The shot to the neck had severed something vital and now all that was left was finishing him off. She lifted her weapon and pulled the trigger feeling a rush of remorse through her once black heart as the life faded from his eyes. Theta Dark slumped into the sand. Questions rushed through her mind, emotions she'd never even felt. Guilt was a new one on her, the feeling that she had betrayed her true nature, that deep down inside she was anything but human. Yet here she was working for their cause and against her own creators. How she longed to be truly human in that moment and yet if she were fully human she surely would have been dead as an inspection of her wounds showed they would indeed be deadly to an ordinary human. She patched them up as best she could and began the trek back to the chopper.

Julian walked alone down the all but deserted suburban streets. Very few citizens were brave enough to dwell out here in the outskirts of the City. Within the walls of the City thousands who weren't trained as soldiers for the Resistance lived relatively peaceful lives free of the bloodshed that continued across the world. In such a violent and chaotic world Julian was amazed that this place could survive. It had changed a great deal since he was there as a teenager. Back then, still in training, he had led a successful liberation squad against fortified Combine positions and even brought down a record number of Striders. He and his men had won a medal that day but they'd lost so many. It was that first taste of battle that had led to Julian being more of a lone warrior. The young assassin reveled in those moments when he could use his instincts to guide him. It wasn't that he didn't value the opinions of his allies it was merely that the presence of his allies made him responsible for their safety.

He wondered where Allison and Jara had gotten off to on their patrol. The two women seemed to get along best when he wasn't around. Julian didn't want to assume that it was a natural jealousy caused by his presence which made the two women bicker and fight when he was around but he couldn't deny the truth. Allison had grown to have quite a crush on him, he knew, although the first time he'd tried to kiss her she'd actually slapped him across the face. He lifted his radio inter-com.

"This is Julian, any friendlies on this channel respond.'

"What did I tell you about giving away your name over the radio?" Eric asked coming in loud and clear over the inter-com.

"Eric my man," Julian said now purposefully trying to anger his Templar friend, "Is Allison there?"

"Yes," Eric admitted and his annoyed tone instantly uplifted Julian, "I'll put her on and then you two can argue for hours over who will hang up first."

Julian scratched his head at that one having been born far too late to understand even the basics of telephone calls between dating couples.

"Hi Julian," Allison said nervously over the inter-com, "How are you?"

Julian was about to answer when his eyes caught sight of something flying in toward the city. Even his sharp eyes had trouble making out what it could possibly be in the dim light provided by the moon that night. He climbed a nearby tree and quickly noticed several more of the shiny objects. The sound arrived shortly after, the unmistakable whistling.

"Allison," Julian radioed, "Allison you have to get into the city and warn everyone."

"I can't hear you Julian," Allison replied, "We're getting some kind of interference here I-"

"Allison! Allison! Fuck!"

Julian readied his weapon as the first shells hit outside the City. The whole of the suburbs would be crawling with head-crabs and there would likely be thousands of zombies swarming the streets of City 12 by Dawn. The assassin wasn't sure what he should do. Even though he was physically isolated he still felt a strong desire to go to Allison and the others and make sure they got into the city alright. Yet he was also needed here in the suburbs to get as many of the Citizens as he could to safety behind the city wall. The Creed resounded in his skull for a moment before he made up his mind and rushed deeper into the suburbs looking for any Citizen that needed assistance.

Shephard could hear the crowd chanting his name from within his holding cell. A smile crept across his face, a face that had a few fresh bruises amidst old scars and new wounds that would likely become scars. The screams of the crowd made him numb to the pain and unafraid of what the next fight in the arena might bring. He had already one. In the eyes of the prisoners of Golgotha he was a testament to the species, to humanity as a whole. His strength was theirs and every drop of blood he spilt was in the name of their glory. He was defending the honor of every single man and woman. The Combine had come through their portals twenty-one years ago and taken slaves and laid waste to the world of men. Shephard was showing them that although their backs were broken man's spirit was not bowing.

The Colonel had fought in the arena a total of three times now. Twice each day they had brought him out thus far. This was going to be his second match. Part of him hoped for something truly gruesome and frightening to pit himself against but the other part of him, the sensible part, was hoping for a few zombies, the slow kind. He knew he would never be that lucky. The door slid open and he emerged into the arena without waiting for the command of the Combine guard. The guard undid his cuffs and fled the arena far faster than usual. Shephard also noticed that the crowd was being kept up two rows as though the next enemy was one they didn't want getting out. He could hear the sound of pounding against the metallic door which housed whatever it was he would be combating.

The buzzer sounded and the door across from him split open revealing his enemy. The crimson domed head and hideous white lifeless eyes, the demonic tail tipped with a spade-shaped club and horrific hoofed feet. It was truly a creature from his nightmares but it was unlike anything he'd seen even in Black Mesa. Its razor sharp teeth were bared as it took its tentative two-legged steps out into the arena and sized up its opponent. Shephard could never have imagined a bipedal creature that looked more alien as it moved closer to him. Its serpentine tongue flicked forward as though that was its sense of smell. Only then did Shephard realize the truth of this creature. It was blind. Those sickly white circles on its face were thermal sensors like the pits of a viper. It could sense heat and smell with its tongue like a snake. Suddenly it didn't seem alien at all, its flaws were familiar.

Shephard reached into his pocket holding tight a small shiv the others had crafted for him to use if he ever had trouble. The creature rubbed its hoofs in the dirt and then sprinted headlong for him. Shephard side-stepped it, just barely, listening as its skull hit the concrete wall with a powerful thud. To his astonishment the demon turned to face him without a scratch.

Shephard was the first to move, he stabbed in with his shiv hitting one of the thermal sensors before and tearing it out. The demon snapped its jaws at him nearly catching him. Shephard was ought of there just in time narrowly avoiding an instant and agonizing death. The Colonel was sure that this wasn't an enemy he could beat, at least not without a weapon, so his relief was extreme when a Combine, the one dressed in strange armor who seemed to carry some rank, entered the Arena from a third door and tossed him a pulse rifle. Shephard pumped the charging alien full of holes emptying every pulse round into it before the stubborn creature finally fell and dodging its attempts to get even.

"Thank you," Shephard said to the strange Combine soldier, "But why did you help me?"

Shephard studied the man's armor unsure if he had seen it anywhere before. It was much more form fitting that the typical Overwatch armor and it was pitch-black. For a moment it reminded Shephard of the armor worn by the black-ops soldiers he'd fought back in Black Mesa, secret government assassins. Could this be some sort of Combine assassin? Shephard could find no Greek insignia or insignia of any kind offering him hints at the soldier's rank.

"Let's just say we can use you elsewhere," the strange soldier said taking the Pulse Rifle back.

Shephard felt a stun baton to the back of his head and faded into unconsciousness. The last thing he heard was the gasps of the crowd as darkness took him.

"Where is the Staff of Eden?" the G-Man hissed.

"I told you already," Theta barked, "The assassins took it into the desert."

"Than you have failed," the G-Man replied coldly, "You were to bring it back."

"I was to protect it from falling into the hands of the Combine," Theta corrected, "Besides, I'm not about to deliver something with that kind of power to someone I just met. Someone who teleports around while the rest of humanity suffers and dies."

"Do not lecture me on humanity my dear," the G-Man said softly, "You are not even one of them."

"Them?" Theta echoed feeling a chill up her spine, "Who are you? And what is Project Omega? You asked me about that… what is it?"

"I suppose you've done enough to repay you debt to me," the G-Man announced abruptly, "You may go now. But I assure you Miss Dark, I will be checking up on you. Until then, farewell."

And with that the G-Man vanished. Theta slumped into the sand with her mind as confused as the sands that swirled chaotically around her. She made her way to the Chopper praying she would have the fuel to make it back to civilization. Civilization, the idea rolled around in her mind as she fired up the engine. The Combine had brought on civilization to a grinding halt. From what she knew of mankind's history that had had a hell of a time getting Civilization started on their own without the interference of the Combine. Now the world was in shambles.

Her ordeal with the G-Man and Sigma had left her with more questions than answers. She knew now that she was far from human and she had some inkling that the G-Man too was something else. Could he be just another method of Combine control? Could Sigma have gone rogue and the Combine have sent her to handle it via the G-Man? There were more important concerns than the G-Man now, like how she was going to convince the Resistance to allow her to join. Her time in the Combine had been anything but productive and had ended with them betraying her. She recalled her words to Julian in the hospital but now they rang as hollow to her. Power did not bring with it permission to wreak wanton destruction and enslave the minds of once free beings - Power brought with it responsibility. She shook the thoughts from her mind for a moment and concentrated on getting the Chopper above the ever-blowing sands of the desert. As she ascended into the crystalline October sky she was glad she had a long ride ahead, she would need it to clear her mind.


	17. Chapter 17: The Enemy of my Enemy

Chapter Seventeen: The Enemy of my Enemy

Julian turned down the road with silent footfalls against the broken concrete of what was once a thriving suburb. He hadn't seen a zombie in almost half an hour but he knew that was no reason to leave his guard down. He paused for but a moment to take a calming breath and fall into himself to renew his focus. He wiped the sweat from his brow and without even opening his eyes he confirmed that Allison, Eric, and Riley were still close behind. He couldn't find Jara though, her footsteps hidden from his ears. He opened his eyes to find her actually taking point ahead of him.

Methodically the group had moved through the area surrounding City 12. The shells had hit the suburbs hard and hundreds of zombies were likely still lurking out here. Julian felt his heart sink a little lower with every bullet he fired, knowing that beneath each headcrab was a fellow human being. Killing Combine was one thing, they had sold their souls to the Empire in favor of their own species, but to end the lives of fellow Resistance soldiers turned dangerous zombie threat was indeed disheartening. Julian shook the guilt from his shoulders knowing that sort of negative emotion was just the sort of thing the Combine were trying to create with a stunt like this.

The young assassin was shaken from his contemplation by the sound of combat. He spun around the corner to find Jara slicing away at a zombie with her sword. Julian's eyes darted to and fro picking out nearly two dozen zombie targets closing on their position quickly. He sprung into action lifting himself onto the nearest rooftop and firing his gauntlet gun into the air. The zombies all seemed to turn toward him attracted to this new noisy intruder. Julian smirked as the first one tried to climb up where he was only to get two silenced USP rounds to the head. The assassin ran to the edge of the roof and helped pull Jara up to safety with him keeping his eyes on Allison and the others who were moving in behind the zombies now. Julian watched with a worried expression as a group of zombies, likely attracted by his earlier gauntlet gun stunt, ambled out of the trees behind Allison, Eric and Riley.

Julian dropped to one knee and took out his XM-8. He'd managed to find a scope for it back in the armory and now he finally had a chance to use it. He dropped the zombies closest to his friends as Jara called out to them to hurry to the roof. Dozens more alien parasites were coming now, a veritable army of the undead descending upon them. Allison made the roof in one leap with her modified legs and Jara and Julian helped Riley and Eric up onto the roof turning quickly to keeping their foes from finding a way up.

A ghastly howl filled the pre-dawn air sending chills down Allison's spine. Julian wrapped his arm around her. She'd been handling the situation remarkably well and had even taken out quite a few zombies on her own but now the night of fighting was taking clearly taking its toll on her. There was little time to worry about Allison's emotional state, however, as a pack of fast zombies came barreling down the street toward them. Julian took one down with his XM-8 but it spent every round in his magazine forcing him to reload. Eric managed to take another out with his Pulse Rifle but at least half a dozen were still headed straight for them.

Riley upholstered his pistols and let loose as the first one scrambled onto the roof. His double Colt Pythons delivering a powerful thud. Each bullet hit home and before long all six of the remaining zombies lie dead scattered across the rooftop where they stood. Julian looked toward the old man with absolute incredulity at the marksmanship he'd just displayed and the quickness with which Riley now reloaded had Julian's mouth equally agape. The assassin had bigger things to worry about than the prowess of one wily old man. Julian turned his XM-8 back on the continually growing crowd.

"Maybe the roof wasn't such a good idea," Julian admitted as he watched more zombies join the six dozen that had already gathered.

The assassin took a deep breath and got a running start before leaping for his life off the roof and onto the roof across the street. It was Riley's turn to gawk - the old man couldn't believe that anyone could make a jump like that. Even Jara, who'd spent her entire life learning to be an assassin, could hardly fathom making a jump like that, at least without sustaining injury. Julian was not injured - he wasn't even slowed - he kept right on going and made the less impressive jump to the next house over from where he was. He fired off a few rounds of his gauntlet gun as he went attracting a following of zombies. As soon as he was convinced he had taken much of the heat from his friends he knelt and began firing his XM-8. Soon enough seven zombies lie dead but Julian now faced another problem, he didn't have any ammunition for his XM-8. One thing he did have, however, was a frag grenade. He leapt up and down firing off the remainder of his gauntlet gun rounds into the crowd of zombies attracting even more with his antics. He tossed in the grenade and took cover.

"Nice, you got damn near everyone," Jara yelled to him.

"Good too because I'm almost out of ammo," Julian said leaping from one roof to the next, "I need you guys to make an ammo run."

"And leave you here?" Riley asked, "You won't last ten minutes by yourself."

"Speak for yourself old man," Julian joked.

"Old?" Riley laughed, "I don't feel a day over sixty!"

"I'll be fine," Julian assured them, "Just leave me a gun that has some rounds left."

Julian made the Herculean jump back over to the roof where his friends were. After picking off the remaining few zombies Eric gave up his silenced MP7 with a few extra magazines.

"I wasn't using it much anyway," he assured.

"We'll be back," Allison promised hugging Julian.

"Relax," he said kissing her softly on the lips, "I'll be fine, I'm used to being on my own."

"Safety and peace my friend," Jara said offering him her sword with a grin.

"To you as well," Julian nodded, "I'll meet you here in an hour."

"Wait," Allison said and when Julian turned back to her he was surprised by her lips against his offering a far grander kiss than the one he'd planted on her. It was a kiss that would likely leave him in a fog of romantic feelings for hours to come.

Julian watched them walk away with the sights of his MP7 trained on every wayward shadow that seemed sentient. As they faded from view he took a deep breath and shut his eyes sinking in to the warrior within. The skilled fighter he had been trained as and the inborn instinct to survive that was bred within his bloodline. As the sun slipped above the horizon he vanished into the suburbs once more.

Desmond watched the sunrise from his apartment's balcony deep in thought. Only the day before he had assured his son that they would not need the assistance of the Templars in the coming fight. The Combine had proved him wrong only an hour later sending shells to wreak havoc outside the city. Now zombies were inside the walls of City 12 and while they were being fairly well contained by the Resistance they were wasting resources and time. How many rounds of ammunition would be spent ending the lives of other citizens and Resistance soldiers who had fallen victim to the alien parasites sent in the shells? Desmond let out a deep sigh. Less than an hour ago he had sent out a message to Warren Vidic, the current leader of the Templars.

In a few hours time he hoped to be meeting with his former foe to discuss a mutually beneficial alliance that would help end the Combine's oppressive rule. From the impression that his short conversation with Vidic had given him he estimated the Templars had more than twenty thousand soldiers remaining. Several thousand were Resistance soldiers or citizens but the majority had obtained positions in the Combine, most as Civil Protection a branch of Combine soldiers that had very little done to alter them.

Desmond wasn't hoping for a massive invasion force of Templars or even an internal uprising of those posing as Combine soldiers. What he wanted was just enough assistance to turn the tide if the assault on Golgotha turned out to be a tough fight. In truth there were no IFS about it. Golgotha maintained a hellish reputation as one of the worst Combine prisons this side of the Atlantic. Desmond had heard stories of a prison in Europe called Nova Prospekt with a similar reputation.

The elder assassin was filled with shame. He had once again been dismissive of his son's ideas. Julian had been absolutely right about needing all the allies they could manage to find. The enemy of their enemy was indeed a potential friend. There were so few friends to be found in this post-apocalyptic world and so little hope to go around. Desmond took a deep breath reveling in the taste of the cool October air waiting to forge new friendships, waiting to rekindle hope.

Theta Dark watched the same sunrise from within the sky. She wasn't far from City 12 now but her Hunter-Chopper was running low on fuel. The shadowy assassin began to guide it down gently hoping that her landing would be undisturbed by any enemies. Enemies, the idea had once seemed clear-cut to her. She had only one enemy in the past, the human race. The Resistance had been her foe. Now she was between two worlds, considered an enemy by both those that had created her and those she had sought to destroy. For now she was an outcast though she hoped to soon remedy the situation.

Hope. A deluded human concept, she had once thought. For what was there to hope for? What did the doomed human race have to look forward to? Hunted to nigh extinction and enslaved by a superior intelligence to help in the rape of their own homeworld. Billions of humans had been killed, millions were conscripted into the armies of the Combine or forced to become enslaved Citizens, hundreds of thousands lived on the fringes of the Combine's control fighting for their freedom from alien oppression. Theta understood now that she could no longer support the Combine. Some slumbering part of her had awakened. In that jail sell in City 12, wracked with pain and dwelling in a dark place of shattered memory, she had changed. Those memories, fragments of lives lived by her ancestors, a composite image of her complex genetic make-up, had reminded her that she had a choice. The Combine may have created her but they did so using primarily human elements.

Sympathy had grown within her in hatred's stead. A wavering human heart had replaced her cold callous synthetic one. As she left the chopper behind and slipped toward a nearby road which she knew would lead her to City 12 she found herself running through internal dialogue and wondering what the Resistance would think of her defection. There was one opinion above all others she wanted to change, one person she wanted to see that she had indeed changed. She wondered if the young assassin would ever accept her. A wave of guilt, an emotion altogether new to her, rushed through her. She had indeed lived a life of wicked deeds however short it had been.

Julian was beginning to tire. The assassin wasn't one for fatigue normally but even with muscles honed to fighting perfection there was a limit to the length he could fight. It'd been almost six hours of all but nonstop combat and more than twenty-four straight hours spent awake. The assassin had worked his way nearly around the entire city and was now on his way back hoping his friends lived up to their promise and had some ammo to offer him. He was going to need it as, aside from one magazine in his silenced USP, he was entirely out of ammo.

Being bullet-less hardly slowed the spry young assassin though as he slipped from building to building dispatching the undead with his dual blades. In his left hand he wielded the jagged sword Jara had given him. Known as a kris it had helped deal with more than few enemies in the hour or so that he'd been on his own. In his right hand he had his own curved saber which he used to slash the limbs from attacking zombies.

The tired assassin slipped his kris into the gut of an oncoming zombie before spinning with his saber outstretched to slash at the head crab on the next closes foe. Without even slowing his momentum he reversed his spin and removed the kris from his enemy quickly flipping it to face backward so he impaled yet another zombie with his backward spin. He sheathed his swords and considered the suburban streets for a moment. His chest was heaving and his assassin robes were drenched with sweat despite the icy early morning air. New to his face was a deep scratch across his forehead hidden beneath tufts of his brown hair that hung down.

He made his way as swiftly as possible to the rooftop he had left his friends on and checked each direction for any sign of them. Something caught the assassin's razor sharp senses then. For a moment he couldn't believe his tired eyes almost assuming himself entirely mad as he rubbed them. The phantom he beheld remained despite his fervent attempts to awaken himself from what was clearly a dream. The assassin ran at lightning speed feeling his strength suddenly restored as he rushed to meet a man he thought he'd never see again. Shephard wrapped him in a huge hug as Julian arrived but as Julian pulled away the expression on his old friend's face was not one of joy. Julian offered a very puzzled look but quickly caught on when he saw the orange portal on the side of a building not twenty feet from where he stood. Combine soldiers were pouring from the portal and at least a dozen had emerged from the surrounding suburbs.

"I'm sorry kid," Adrian lamented lowering his eyes, "They took the portal gun. They forced me to come as bait."

"We can fight," Julian said, "We can get out of this. We can kill these fuckers."

"I wouldn't try anything," a somewhat robotic voice advised, "Your friend Shephard here is strapped with explosives, one false move and both of you will be reduced to vapor."

Julian watched the strange figure dressed in black armor the likes of which he'd never seen stepped from the portal. The attentive assassin quickly surmised the truth of his enemy - an assassin. Julian had the Sword of Eden with him but he dared not even reach for it in its sheath. Reluctantly and fighting every fiber of his being he put his hands up and surrendered.

Allison watched the scene with horror on her face as the Combine led Julian through the orange portal and it shut behind the assassin. She turned to see Jara's expression was one of equal parts concern and indignation as she turned back toward City 12. Jara noted the fire in the young girl's eyes as her thoughts turned toward running for help. Allison knew her intent immediately was to inform Desmond, to inform any and all Resistance members that she could, of what had happened. Subject 27 sprung into action, her modified legs carrying her nearly twice as fast as even the spry female assassin could sprint.

Allison had panic in her heart as the scene with Julian replayed in her mind. Flashes of her past lives returned for a moment but she put them out of her mind as fast as they had arisen. She had to concentrate on remembering every detail of what had happened to Julian, it was important if she ever wanted to see the assassin alive again. If there was any human being on Earth Allison wanted to see alive it was Julian. She sprinted right past the guardhouse rousing angry shouts that only grew angrier when Jara too sped by without offering any credentials. Eric, who was bringing up the rear, explained the situation to the guards.

Jara could hardly believe the speed with which Allison was running now. The tired assassin, having spent nearly the entire night fighting, could barely even keep a line of sight on the feisty Allison Rogue as she bolted down each city street toward Desmond's apartment. Eventually she just gave up and collapsed in a heap on the pavement of a street. Several citizens came out asking if she was running from zombies and if they had infiltrated the city once more. Jara relieved their fears and accepted their help to find her feet and offered her a couch to sleep on. Despite having her own apartment Jara had to admit her fatigue and accept the offer hoping that Allison managed to relay the message and knowing, from the fiery look in Allison's eyes she had seen earlier, that the young woman would not fail. Before she succumbed to sleep, however, she told the citizens in the house what had happened and advised them to get the word out to as many as possible.

Allison burst into Desmond's room startling the man, who sat with Baron Brown discussing the upcoming meeting with the Templars, nearly to death. The Elder assassin almost thought for a moment that this would prove to be another assassination attempted by the oft delirious girl. Instead she collapsed into his arms sobbing uncontrollably and repeating the same muffled words over and over again. Her garbled speech was impossible to understand as Desmond desperately tried to calm her down.

"They've taken him" she wept, "They've taken Julian."

-=-=0=-=-=-=0=-=0-=-=-=-=-=-=-0-==-=-0-=-0-=-00-=-0

Theta could see the skyline of the city as she cut through the trees and killed yet another zombie. She had wondered why she had encountered so many of the foul smelling creatures along her route only to find Combine head crab shells scattered across the countryside as she drew nearer to the city. It was likely mid-afternoon by now, she estimated as she entered the former suburbs of City 12 and made her way nearer the gate. She had decided to surrender openly to whatever guards were posted there as a token of her good intentions.

Good. The word would have seemed essentially meaningless to her only a week ago. When in the employ of the Combine, when wielding such skill and such power, there was no concern about right and wrong to be felt. She had taken the life from hundreds in her short time alive and never once had remorse touched her blackened heart. There was no good or evil in the life of servitude to the Combine, there was only the powerful against the powerless struggling to keep them from regaining their strength.

Now the dark assassin seemed utterly divorced from what she was before. She felt as though the path before her was clear and obvious. To join the Resistance and make up for the pain she had caused. To fight against the Empire that had betrayed her and had threatened to kill off humanity entirely. She stepped up the guardhouse with her hands upraised unsure if those stationed there would even recognize her as a Combine. One of them did recognize her though. She was a woman in her mid-forties who had been amongst those who dropped her off at the prison when she'd first entered City 12.

"I've come in peace," Theta announced as they approached her with weapons drawn. She tried to have as sincere a tone as possible, "I won't try anything, and I just want to talk."

"Want to talk to whom?" One of the men asked.

"If you escaped why in the hell would you come back here?" the woman who had recognized her asked.

"Because I want to join you," Theta admitted, "I want to join the Resistance. After Julian, after the doctors, spared me and saved my life I… well I changed."

"Julian's missing," a soldier blurted out only to be elbowed by the woman, now clearly their commanding officer.

"You changed in a matter of days?" The woman scoffed incredulously.

"Julian's missing?" Theta asked as her nearly pure white eyes lit up.

"Combine took him this morning," the woman admitted and now it was the grunt's turn to elbow her, "We thought it had something to do with you?"

"Where'd they take him?"

"Why should I tell you? For all I know you just want to kill him to get revenge."

"Because depending on where it is they've taken him I could get in," Theta explained, "I'm an assassin remember, I could help."

"You're serious aren't you?" The woman asked, Theta's sincerity having been unflinching the entire time, "Alright then, we'll escort you in to talk to some people who've been putting together a team to go after him but if you try ANYTHING I blow your fucking brains out."

"Lead the way," Theta agreed with a nod.

"What do you mean you no longer have the Piece of Eden?" Warren asked trying not to raise his voice.

"It was taken from Julian," Desmond explained, "By a very strange man in a blue suit."

"You know of him too then?" Vidic asked, "At least that explains why Julian never made good on our bargain."

"What bargain?" Desmond asked with eyebrow raised.

"Never mind," Vidic replied, "I suppose we could win without the Apple. Golgotha is a tough nut to crack."

"We're going to have to crack it," Desmond announced, "it's where they have my son."

"Sir," a soldier said entering the room, "I'm sorry to interrupt sir but there's been some commotion."

"What is it?" Desmond asked conveying the anger he had stifled during his talk with Vidic to his tone.

"The Combine assassin Theta Dark sir," the soldier started nervously, "She's requesting to join the Resistance. She says she prepared to infiltrate Golgotha and try to get Julian out before the siege. Shall I have her locked up again sir?"

"Sir, shall I have her imprisoned?" the soldier repeated watching as Desmond mulled over his decision.

"No," Desmond announced to the surprise of all in the room, "Send her in, I want to talk to her."

"Strange days indeed," Vidic said stroking his beard, "to see so many former enemies uniting. Strange days indeed…"

Julian felt his eyes ache as they slowly slipped open. The light was blinding him forcing him to squint and squirm. He found his arms bound by metal bars and kept helpless at his sides. He tossed his aching head from side to side. His mind was spinning, swirling. Ghost-like images from the dreams that had filled his unconsciousness flooded before him now. The phantom feel of Allison's lips crept through his mind like the wind through the trees and was gone before he could grasp it. When at last reality had corporealized around him and his eyes had adjusted to the light he turned immediately to Shephard who was similarly restrained beside him.

They were in a gray-blue steel room that seemed vaguely familiar to the young assassin. On the far end from where they were sat several Combine Elites each working at a Computer Terminal. Next to the computers was the Sword of Eden hooked up to several tubes and scanning devices. A flash of panic filled the assassin's fatigued mind as he laid eyes on the sword in the hands of the Combine. WHAT HAD HE DONE? To surrender such a weapon to the oppressive Empire that had killed his Mother, to voluntarily surrender rather than fight to his death. Had the agony of aching muscles and a tired mind made him susceptible to their threats? Had the fear of death supplanted the courage to protect the item at all costs? He struggled against the metallic bars that pinned him firmly to a metal backboard but he quickly found it futile to fight.

Julian turned to Shephard to see that the Colonel was just awaking. He saw the man's sad eyes look over to him. For once the soldier that had offered him hope looked just was frail and helpless as Julian felt. Julian tried to spark some inner courage or voice some words of comfort to his old friend but each phrase that came to mind rang hollow or cliché. Julian hung his head, believing he had damned the human race and having no hope to offer himself or anyone.

A door across the room screeched open and in stepped the Combine assassin who had captured them. The assassin stepped silently across the room to greet them stopping only to briefly glimpse the sword.

"Well," the assassin started, "our prisoners have awakened. I am not an ordinary Combine soldier as you have no doubt surmised. I am known as codename Tau. Thanks to you Shephard and you Julian Miles I have proved my worth to the Combine Empire. Now I will not be amongst those destined for obsolesce, unlike your pathetic human race."

"People do not become obsolete!" Julian roared suddenly feeling alive with defiance.

"But species do I'm afraid," Tau replied coldly as several soldiers approached him, "Survival of the fittest, isn't that how your own species put it?"

"What are you going to do with us?" Shephard asked, more concerned with Julian than himself.

"You Shephard will be placed back in with the population of inmates, though I doubt the Arena will allow you to compete again… You nearly incited riots in your short stint as gladiator. As for Mister Miles," the Combine assassin said narrowing his eyes, "he has many memories to share with us."

Julian watched as something inhuman and slug like appeared on the monitors nearby. He took a long look at the creature on the screen as the soldiers shackled him and took him away. He'd never before seen what a Combine truly looked like. He marked in his mind the appearance of his enemy as they led him away. The young assassin promised himself that he would get through and that no matter the techniques they used to break him he would stay strong. But truthfully he was already broken, his mind shattered with guilt in knowing that he had given up the Sword of Eden to humanity's enemy without a fight. Sadness gripped his heart as they led him into the Animus room and readied the machine for its sinister work.


	18. Chapter 18: Relics

Chapter Eighteen: Relics

Desmond stood on his balcony watching the troops assemble but although his eyes seemed to follow their marching feet his mind was elsewhere. The elder assassin was deep in thought. His emotional turmoil had been incessant since the news had reached his ears that his son had been taken by the Combine. He was in his mid-fifties but the hardships of life, coupled with using the Pieces of Eden, had aged his body. To any who would have offered a guess he would have been at least ten years older. He had little time to dwell on the aches and pains that plagued him. There were more important things to worry about.

It had been three days since the Combine had stolen his son away from him and in those three days their plans for action had been sped up. Despite their feverish pace the siege remained days away. General Cartwright marched up and down with her troops. The woman was in heaven, Desmond noted by the uncharacteristic grin printed on her face. Baron Brown had offered her command of an entire division, nearly ten thousand strong. Most soldiers in the siege force came from City 12 but a call had been put out to recruiters in Combine cities around the country. A call to arms had been raised across the land and the pieces were to be set in motion soon enough.

Along with the ordinary Resistance soldiers that provided the backbone of the siege forces Desmond and the other Generals had also summoned six thousand Templars and every last member of the Assassin Order that still existed. Already the assassins had begun to arrive from various parts of the world where they had been protecting the Pieces of Eden.

Desmond let out a deep and mournful sigh. He felt truly lost. At the end of the summer he'd felt confident that the Combine were loosening their grip and that the time to strike was near. When they'd lost at Coldwind, however, it started a chain reaction of defeat. Black Mesa fell and then Clear Water and now the Combine had attempted to shell City 12 apparently aware that forces were mounting an attack. He wondered if there was any reason to hold onto the hope that stubbornly clung to his heart day after day. Julian was likely in the torture chamber right now and it was only a matter of time before his son met an end in that horrid place.

He looked within himself searching for the wisdom of his ancestors, for the voice of reason that dwelled within his genetic memories. There he found them, Ezio and Altair. They weren't just his predecessors anymore. Ever since the Animus sessions they had become part of him. It was as if these ghosts were his to summon and all their wisdom was at his disposal. He stood tall and proud before the two phantoms that stood before him but he quickly slumped into his seat once more and tried desperately to fight the despair he felt. The world was collapsing once more and here he was about to lose his son in the process. Their only chance was Golgotha.

"How can I take that horrible place?" Desmond pleaded with the two specters, "Can we win the battle?"

"Not alone signore," Ezio replied, "You will need the comfort and strength of the legions you command. Their courage must become yours in this dark time. For decades you have granted them your own bravery, now it is time for them to repay you."

"The Combine has my son," Desmond said, "Do you know where he is?"

"Safe," Altair spoke, "He is visiting with me now."

"They have him in the Animus," Desmond growled, "Goddamn them."

"He is strong," Altair assured him, "He will not divulge the secrets I have kept."

"Will they kill him?"

"They would kill anyone to gain more power," Ezio said, "Especially an animal they deem lesser than them. But do not worry. Non mostrano alcun timore."

"Safety and Peace," Altair said fading into nothing.

"And remember the Creed," Ezio said also vanishing before Desmond's eyes.

"Nothing is true," Desmond sighed feeling a surge of inner strength, "and everything is permitted."

Allison felt completely out of place standing in the recruitment line for the Resistance. Of those who where queuing with her most were men and most were in their late forties. In fact aside from her there was only one person who looked younger than thirty in the line. She sighed nervously as she stepped up the gruff Resistance soldier who was serving as a sort of secretary for the recruitment office. She looked down at the sign up sheet and reminded herself that she was fighting for something and for someone. Her own reservations about ending a human life would have to be set aside, as would the brutal past life memories of battling the Vietcong. She would need to be as brutal as she had been in the jungle out there but this time there would be no room for remorse. She felt the tension release when she saw that it was Michael Cameron, the man who had saved her from the Combine, who was teaching the class.

"Michael!" she blurted accidentally interrupting his lesson on takedowns and hand-to-hand combat. She blushed bright red as all eyes turned to her but thankfully when she turned back toward Michael he wasn't the least bit upset. He strolled up to her and offered her a hug though she accepted only reluctantly as he was a bit sweaty. He told the class to break for a few minutes but as soon as they dispersed his expression turned worrisome.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He asked trying not to sound too stern.

"I could ask you the same question," she said.

"Believe it or not I'm a Sergeant already," Michael said, "Now really why did you come down here?"

"I want to fight," Allison explained, "I want to do my part to defeat the Combine."

"You just want revenge," Michael said shaking his head, "you're blinded by it.'

"Not at all," Allison lied, "I'm a good fighter. Even Julian said so. He was training me."

"He trained you for barely a week," Michael pointed out.

"That's why I'm here," Allison said impatiently, "I want to finish my training."

"I didn't teach you much about fighting before," Michael said, "And I won't teach it to you now. I don't want to see an innocent girl like you turned into a killer."

"I went out with Julian and Eric and Jara and we killed plenty of zombies," Allison protested.

"Zombies are different," Michael tried to argue.

"If you won't help me I'll join someone else's class," Allison shouted somewhere between rage and tears, "General Cartwright will take me into her Division."

"Wait," Michael said, "I'm sorry. I just don't want to see you hurt or filled with guilt. You've only just begun to live a semi-normal life, your psyche has just started to repair and I'm afraid it's fragile."

"I know you think you know what's best for me but if I've only just begun to live you've got to let me make my own decisions."

"I will," Michael agreed with a grin, "I'll train you in my own time, away from the others. Meet me at my place tomorrow morning. I have a surprise for you."

"Any hints?"

"Nope," Michael said with a wink, "And I don' think Julian would appreciate it if I spoiled it. He was the one who commissioned the, um, surprise."

Allison left the training field unsure of what to think. On the one hand she was glad Michael had agreed to train her but on the other all the talk of Julian had reminded her that he was taken. It was that fact that had inspired her to fight. The Combine had threatened the man she saw as her greatest source of happiness. In the short time she'd known Julian she'd gone from a shattered fragment of a person with no long-term memory to speak of to a whole and complete person with dreams and aspirations. One of those aspirations was to spend time wrapped in Julian's arms gazing into the assassin's dreamy almond colored eyes. This was one of the first times in her life that she had the opportunity to fight for something far greater than herself and get revenge on the bastards that had shattered her psyche and stolen the man she loved. Love. The idea brought a smile to her face that fermented into a frown at the thought of Julian in pain. She tightened her fists and transformed that sadness into rage a rage that she hoped to unleash as soon as possible.

Desmond nodded his approval as the group paraded before him dressed in the clothing of refugees. Refugees were like citizens without a Combine city to call home. The elder assassin stopped when he reached the leader of the group, the young female assassin Jara. He continued his walk until he reached the one who had come up with the plan. The pale eyes of his former enemy still sent chills down his spine and made the man wonder if he would ever get used to treating the creature as an ally. Desmond felt a bit of guilt about thinking of Theta Dark as less than human but he shrugged it off deciding it didn't matter what she was as long as she could deliver on her promise.

"Very good Theta," Desmond congratulated, "The Combine won't suspect a thing."

"Jara and the others will try to start a prison riot," Theta explained, "After they have been arrested of course."

"And with the guards distracted you will be able to sneak inside," Desmond said with a smile, "Simple but brilliant."

"Thank you sir," Theta saluted, "Permission to leave at once sir."

"Permission granted," Desmond said, "And good luck."

"I'll bring him back," Theta nodded shaking the man's hand, "I promise you that."

Desmond watched the group depart and was suddenly reminded of what he had been told by Altair and Ezio only hours earlier. Their words echoed in his mind and a surge of pride coursed through him. The bravery of that group had indeed become his. They were going to get themselves arrested. Before the Combine invasion such an action wouldn't have been all that bad but being processed in the post Combine world was an ordeal that sometimes ended in death and Golgotha had a reputation even worse than that of most Combine prison complexes. The fact that all of them had volunteered to work beside a former Combine assassin spoke volumes of their respect for Desmond and their desire to see Julian returned alive. He turned to see the other assassins who had gathered around him.

"Your daughter is very brave," Desmond said to Hassan Aldi.

"Fear is not for us assassins," Hassan said, "We must set it aside for the greater good."

"Did you bring the Pieces?" Desmond asked and as each of the assassin leaders nodded he found an imperceptible smile uncontrollably appear on his face.

Julian shut his eyes as tight as they would go and tried to make the images vanish but they still paraded before his eyes. In the last three days he'd spent fifty-four hours in the Animus and already the bleed-through brought visions of the past into the present and kept him from sleeping. He knew that it was nearly time for them to come get him and yet his mind would not allow him to sleep.

The young assassin had done his best to keep the locations of the Pieces hidden but the Combine Animus was incredibly powerful and it allowed them to pry deep into memories that were hard to access. He could hardly believe the Hell he'd been put through but he was determined to cling to sanity as long as he could. In truth it was his own guilt that had weakened his mind the most, the feeling that he had betrayed the human race by surrendering. The scene had replayed a thousand times in his mind, sometimes it ended with his death and other times it ended with him defeating Tau and the Combine Overwatch. Both options seemed preferable to this imprisonment, to this guilt that pumped with every beat of his art and crawled like poison in his veins.

He shut his eyes and felt sleep take him for but a moment before the doors screeched open. They hauled him out into the hall and prodded him toward the Animus room. His silent steps carried him into the room where nearly a hundred other Resistance members slept. There was a new one today, a man he'd once admired who he had assumed was dead. A pang of anguish coursed through him at the sight of General Yakamoto in an Animus. He lay down in the machine and returned to Altair hoping that his resolve would be strong enough to repel the prying eyes of the Combine Empire.

The sun had set over City 12 more than four hours ago but still Desmond wrestled for sleep. His dreams were dominated by demonic visions. The death of his wife replayed time and time again in his mind now accompanied by a similar vision, the death of Julian. It was too much to bear, the thought of losing them both to the Combine. The bravery lent to him during his day had fled from him in the chill of night and left him defenseless against the darkest portion of his mind. He woke, finally, and his bloodshot eyes went immediately toward the door to his room. There was one way he could get back Julian and it was in that room.

"What are you planning Mister Miles?" the voice of the G-Man hissed.

"You can't continue doing this," Desmond demanded.

"Doing what?" The G-Man cooed, "Directing your destiny?"

"Interfering with humanity," Desmond corrected, "Your kind is not part of our destiny anymore. Let us be."

"You alone know the truth of my kind Mister Miles," G-Man reminded, "I suggest you show some respect. You have quite a collection of our relics in the other room, what are you planning?"

"I'm planning on getting my son back," Desmond explained, "And for the record it is your kind that are the relics. We don't need you."

"Is that what you think?" G-Man chuckled, "Well I was planning on intervening on behalf of your son but if your would prefer to write your own destiny I suppose that can be arranged. Goodbye for now Mister Miles and be sure to get some rest."

Desmond felt a weight on his shoulders as the G-Man dissipated. He knew that it was unwise to anger so powerful a being but his patience was too thin. He assumed, to spare his conscience the guilt, the man in the blue suit was lying about saving Julian. In all the years Desmond had known the enigmatic man he had only once, to Desmond's knowledge, done anything truly advantageous for the Resistance and that had been to release Adrian Shephard from stasis. Shephard. Desmond had such fond memories of fighting beside the man during the early years of the Resistance. The Combine had taken so much from so many, Desmond wanted to make sure that in the coming days they took as much as they could back. With the help of a legion of allies and the Pieces of Eden they had assembled he hoped they could beat the Combine. No, he told himself as sleep finally came, not just beat the Combine - CRUSH them.

Allison tapped nervously on the door to Michael's house. She felt a bit startled when Michael, exhausted looking, appeared in the door way. She found herself tempted to laugh as he led her inside nearly tripping over his work stool and tools that were strewn across the floor. He quickly took a seat and propped himself up on his elbow. Allison giggled when she noticed that he was falling asleep. The man's head slipped from his elbow and his chin nearly hit the table. Luckily he sprung awake and turned to Allison with a smile on his tired face. He shook his head wildly in an attempt to shake the sleep from his system long enough to surprise Allison.

"Sorry," he said.

"So what's this surprise?" Allison asked feeling abuzz with excitement. She'd spent the entire day yesterday using the surprise as a way to distract her mind from the more serious concerns that were facing her. Now there was only a few moments before the reality of the surprise would be made known. She followed Michael into the next room where a chest sat. She knelt as Michael did beside the chest and watched with bated breath as he opened it. She was a bit confused by what she saw though it appeared to be some sort of armor. She grabbed the torso of the armor and heaved it out of the chest to get a better look at it. She found it covered with pockets, compartments and wires.

"It's a Hazardous Environment Suit," Michael explained, "Julian commissioned it based on the one he found. Damn thing was a relic compared to this one. He wanted it done before the siege, he was going to give it to you, along with a special blade he was making."

"He did give me a blade," Allison replied remembering how rudely she'd reacted to the nature of the gift Julian had given her.

"Put it on and let me show you some of the other cool toys I made to go with this bad boy," Michael said with a devious grin.

Allison felt a bit silly dressed in the all black HEV suit Michael had made but her skepticism about the suit was erased when she put on the Helmet. Instantly the heads up display, or HUD, engaged. She felt a surge of adrenaline through her body apparently originating with the suit as her own bio-sign read-out appeared on the screen in front of her as did a section for ammunition levels and the power level of the suit which was currently at one hundred percent. She began performing several of the simpler katas that Julian had taught her in the suit and found that despite being a bit on the heavy side her range of motion wasn't impeded by the suit.

Along with the suit Michael had fitted a special gauntlet on her wrist which he had called the Pulse Gauntlet. Allison stepped forward into the arena facing down several dummies that Michael had created to look like Combine soldiers. She activated the primary trigger of the gauntlet much the same way Michael's old Dark Energy Beam Weapon worked. This time, however, the gauntlet fired standard Overwatch Pulse Rifle rounds making it much easier to reload and eliminating the need for a portable power source. She took out the first few dummies with the main gun before testing the secondary trigger. Michael had told her it created a repulse wave of energy that blasted back any enemies or projectiles in the way of the shockwave. She watched the mock Combine soldiers fly backward as the wave pulsated forth.

Feeling satisfied that those worked she turned her attention to another new weapon Michael had manufactured. It was a lot simpler than either the HEV suit or the right gauntlet. It was a crossbow mounted on her left gauntlet that was designed to shoot small knives instead of standard crossbow bolts. These knives, Michael explained, contained a tiny bit of explosive that would detonate on impact. The explosive wasn't designed to do any damage in and of itself but it would help push the knife deeper to help penetrate the armor of Combine Overwatch as well as Elites.

Allison felt truly unstoppable in her new battle regalia. She truly wondered if the Combine would stand a chance against her now. She cast the cocky thoughts from her mind and concentrated on Michael as he began to direct her through a lesson. She had a lot to learn before she was ready for battle.

Jara felt the fear subsiding as she neared the end of the line. Once the microchip was implanted under her skin there was no turning back. Most of the group had made it through being processed although several of them had been kept for further questioning. She hoped that even they would eventually be released into the general population just as she was about to be. The needle dipped under her skin and placed the chip into her arm. The doors opened before her and Golgotha bared its dark reality. Most of the citizens here within were in poor physical condition, a fact that saddened her. It seemed more a concentration camp than a prison.

The saddened faces did seem to brighten when they saw her especially those of the men. Jara felt a bit like a piece of meat being admired as nothing more than a meal. Then again, she reminded herself, these poor souls had little to look forward to. Even their lewd thoughts and lustful fantasies served a positive purpose to keep their souls alive in this dark place. Such was the way of the Combine, to crush the spirit by taking from humanity the ability to breed. The desire still remained, though some scientists had theorized that the suppression field had also affected libido lust and temptation were still strong. It would take more than the Combine to overcome billions of years of sexual evolution. Jara found herself walking in circles through the crowd until at last her sharp assassin eyes found the man she was looking for.

Shephard sat sadly. He felt like a man who deserved to be condemned to this Hell after what he had helped the Combine accomplish. He'd done his best to divorce himself from the guilt but in truth it was his failure that had delivered the Portal Gun, Julian and the Piece of Eden that Julian had carried into the hands of the Combine. He perked up instantly when he saw the woman approaching him. She was in her mid-twenties, her beauty magnified by the utter ugliness of his situation.

"Adrian Shephard?" Jara asked the man.

"You're beautiful," Shephard said absent-mindedly, "I mean yes Ma'am. Yes I'm Adrian Shephard."

"I've come for you," she said, "I need your help, the Resistance needs you."

"For what?" Shephard asked, "I've been nothing but a failure."

"Stow that shit soldier," Jara said narrowing her dazzling eyes, "If you want to help save Julian we're going to need to start a riot."

"It won't work," Shephard said sadly, "The prisoners here have no energy, no morale."

"There has to be a way to get them riled up," Jara insisted, "Think Colonel."

"It won't work," Shephard repeated but after hearing the roar of a distant crowd a smile appeared on his face, "There is one way."

"Does the rest of the Resistance know their role in this?" Desmond asked to Baron Brown.

"Indeed they do," the eccentric mayor replied, "They will be launching attacks on Combine outposts just before we launch our own siege. In the confusion the Combine will have to fight with what they have, they will not be able to move troops around quickly enough to support Golgotha."

"And with the Resistance, the Templars and the Assassins united," Vidic added, "We will number almost sixty-thousand, more than double what is estimated to be at Golgotha."

"It will still be a hard won victory," Hassan argued, "That place is built like a fortress."

"It will fall," Desmond assured them, "I have a plan."

"We worry about your plans," Hassan said, "Do not do anything unwise my brother. We have entrusted you with great power by bringing you the Pieces of Eden. Such power bestows upon you great responsibility."

"So does being a Father," Desmond replied more to himself than the others, "I know what I'm doing."

"Very well then," Vidic replied looking to Hassan to stop pursuing the subject.

"Get some rest," Hassan advised him.

"I will try," Desmond promised looking out over the City as the sunset on yet another day his son had spent in captivity.

Julian walked the streets of Damascus in the body of Altair. The Combine had been forcing him to follow his ancestor on a journey they hoped would lead them to the secret of the Pieces of Eden. There was something amiss about the whole scene to Julian, something out place he couldn't put his finger on. He studied the crowd around him which Altair was blended into flawlessly the way only an assassin could. There amidst the multitude was a man who didn't belong. A man in blue suit holding a brief case and adjusting his tie.

The young assassin wondered if his sanity had already cracked after only a few days of this torture. He cast that idea aside and watched the man through his ancestors eyes utterly amazed to see him vanish without a trace. What was this specter? Was the present day intruding upon the past the way the past had intruded upon the present day for Allison? Or had the G-Man found a way to break the bonds of time and space to appear before Altair? There seemed far too many options for one as mysterious as the G-Man and Julian was unsure what to believe.

He felt the Animus powering down and his eyes opening to the light of reality once more. The bright light pierced his eyelids painfully as he tried to get to his feet. The Combine assisted him back to his cell and slammed the door behind him leaving him in the dark. The shadows were meant to be an assassin's only friend. Julian shook the cobwebs from his aching mind and began to do push-ups. The exercise kept the blood pumping in his body and helped clear his thoughts when all else failed. He had to keep strong in both body and mind if he hoped to survive the ordeal. He was worried though, something told him the Combine were getting close to finding a Piece of Eden within the memories of Altair. He would need to be extra careful not to divulge any information and to resist the Empire's attempts to access that memory.

Julian went through his exercises before crossing his legs and beginning to hum softly. Meditation had been difficult for the assassin since he'd been captured. Often it brought with it images of Allison's pure blue eyes and the remembrance of how her soft lips felt against his. Such visions roused anger and remorse but most of all longing. In the short time he'd known her he'd come to love her. Love. Such a word seemed a relic to a forgotten era in human history. The age of love had been replaced by a dark age, an age of chaos and death. Julian pulled himself inward and steeled his resolve. Love wasn't a relic, it was alive and well within him.


	19. Chapter 19: The Truth

Chapter Nineteen: The Truth

Jara felt a rush of adrenaline at the sound of the crowd chanting her name time and time again. For the last two days she'd been a combatant in the Arena. She'd fought four fights thus far. Her first fight had a measly two dozen in attendance and those had seemed more interested in seeing a beautiful woman than a battle. Now, however, the stands were packed with screaming citizens and former soldiers all shouting their praises. Part of her was excited for the thrill of battle and the spirit-soaring effect of the applause but in the back of her mind she was reminded of her mission. As soon as she had the other prisoners fully on her side and filled to the brim with respect she would rile them up and have them start a riot. Theta, she knew, was likely close by. The woman had been traveling on foot and Golgotha was a good distance from the safety of City 12. Still the dark assassin was swift on her feet from what little Jara had seen of her.

The doors crowed and creaked as they opened up and she stepped out into the Arena. She felt invincible standing there under the glow of the lights and hearing the fanatics scream. She raised her hands to provoke to crowd even more. There must have been five thousand prisoners there at least. A smile grew across her face. Assassins were not used to glory. Her order lived their lives in the shadows as ethereal as ghosts in the dark. Jara was particularly susceptible to the screaming crowd because she'd spend years defending the Sword of Eden.

Across from her the doors were opening. She peered into the shadows of the door and saw three ghastly red eyes shining as they were struck by the light. The hulking creature had hardly fit in the cramped quarters below the arena. Two Combine guards pulled ropes that were attached to the behemoth's arms in an attempt to coax it out. The creature stepped forward and stood on two legs. It was nearly twice as tall as Jara's five feet seven inch height and stood on two massive elephant like legs covered in strange gray-blue scales. It had three arms and two hulk-like appendages in the same places human beings have them and the third, a vestigial limb, in the center of its chest. The demon let out a deep and deafening roar before striding forward. Each step shook the ground and Jara suddenly felt the chanting of the crowd wouldn't be enough to overcome her fear.

The spry little assassin managed to slip beneath the first powerful swipe of the alien beast. She spun as she ran behind it but to her horror it spun remarkably fast and launched several jabs of its massive fists. Jara slipped under one and leapt over another sprinting up the creature's arms and kicking it in the face before doing a back flip back down to the floor of the arena. The blow seemed to do little other than anger the alien and Jara was forced to dodge more attacks. Each swing of its arms created such wind and made a terribly sound that reminded Jara that one hit was all this thing would need to shatter bone. Despite her incredible speed in comparison with the lumbering creature she knew that it was only a matter of time before she grew tired. With no real way of doing substantial damage to such a massive monster there seemed no way to win.

There was only one way to win this fight, by technicality. She rushed up toward where the Combine guards stood and lured the creature her way hoping to recreate a similar situation Shephard had told her about. She leapt out of the way of the guard's stun baton and right over the head of the approaching alien to land behind the behemoth. She got a running start and kicked as hard as she could against the monster's back propelling it into the wall. Its head was only inches from the Combine guards now who both receded up into the stands. The creature, seeing them flee in fear, reached up its long arms until it nearly touched the edges of the crowd.

"Stop!" A Combine Elite, the ring master for the arena that night, called, "What is the meaning of this?"

"I should ask you the same question," Jara prodded, "Sending a lady to fight such a monster without a weapon."

"You will stop this behavior," the Elite demanded, "Give her a weapon!"

Jara felt vindicated for only a moment, until her weapon arrived. She clenched the stun baton tight in her hands as the towering terror realized he couldn't get at the crowd and turned around to face her again. Still her stunt had set the crowd ablaze and she used that as fuel to the fires of courage. The alien grunt growled, its horrendous double-jaws cleaving apart to send spittle flying. Jara side-stepped the spit and took the growl as a taunt - it was time to strike. She lifted and the baton and leapt bringing it down like a club on the creature's skull. When she landed she swung the club up against its lower jaw before retreating just in time to avoid the creature's fists. The weapon was more effective than her fists have been but still far from effective enough. She stepped back and propped it against the wall before snapping it in two with her foot.

As she had hoped the baton had broken perfectly leaving a sharp point on one end. Now all she needed was to hit a vulnerable spot somewhere between the behemoth's armored scales. She avoided another strike of those massive arms and could tell by the creature's growls that it was growing tired of getting the run around from its prey. Again it swung and again it missed but this time would be its last. Its arm came high and Jara went low, so low she slipped between its legs and came up the other side. Directly on the other side was the wall of the arena. Without looking back or even slowing she sprinted up the wall and sprung outward. Already the behemoth was trying to spin but it was too late. She stretched out her arms as she flew and jammed the splintered baton into the base of the alien's neck before falling to the ground.

The grunt shrieked and screamed as its lifeblood ran out onto the loose sand of the arena. Jara watched as the poor thing tried futilely to pull the weapon from its wound. It reached for her trying with its last bit of strength to take from her what she had just stolen from it - life. At last the leviathan lie dead and Jara stood before the crowd covered in sweat and truly amazed that she was still alive. The torrential applause pounded in her ears as she walked from the arena. It was almost time.

Desmond walked through the convoy inspecting each vehicle he came across. Hundreds of armored trucks and vans with makeshift mounted guns had been readied for the impending siege of Golgotha. It was only a day away now. Night had come over the city but despite that fact Desmond knew few would find sleep. The morning would bring with it the first stage of their plan, the simultaneous assault. Across the country every Resistance outpost and base had been instructed to move against the Combine. The sudden attack would throw them off guard and leave them unable to send reinforcements to fortify Golgotha. The day after those simultaneously attacks they would set out in the convoy. Over fifty thousand soldiers would make the journey to the Combine prison. If successful the attack would bring down the suppression field for a large area allowing procreation. Desmond wondered what it might be like to see young faces again, to hear the laughter of children. Tears crept into his eyes though he wiped them away before his associates could see them.

"Everything seems to be in order," Hassan noted, "There won't be enough vehicles for all of our troops however."

"Cartwright's Division will be taking the convoy," Desmond explained, "The others will leave at first light of dawn today and make the journey on foot. They should arrive just hours after General Cartwright and her troops."

"We will need to get everyone out of the prison before we blow the Citadel," Vidic said.

"Are you sure that's the best way to destroy the suppression field?" Desmond asked.

"It's the only way we know of," Vidic replied, "And it will stop them from being able to open a Super-Portal. The last thing we need is more Combine coming through to our world."

"But what kind of bomb could possibly destroy a Citadel?" Hassan asked.

"Leave that to me," Vidic assured them with a wicked smile.

"Will you be leaving with the troops in the morning brother?" Hassan asked.

"No," Desmond explained, "I will ride along with the convoy."

"In that case I will see you there," Hassan said with a bow, "Safety and Peace be upon you."

Desmond watched the two men walk away. He felt strangely nervous but not about the battle. He went back to his room and tried to sleep but his dreams were haunted by visions of his wife. The elder assassin crawled from his bed and found his way into the other room. There the glimmering golden Pieces of Eden lie. A shield, a spear, a chest plate, a helmet and a gauntlet, it was these six made up part of a set of weapons and armor crafted from the Pieces that the gods had left behind. Known as the armaments of Eden they had been used by many great warriors throughout history. From the great General of Carthage Hannibal to Alexander the Great himself these weapons had passed through history and been in the hands of legendary figures. Now they had come to the hands of Desmond Miles, a man who had tried and failed to leave his assassin heritage behind. He was now a man who was trying to save his son and the world.

Although he was in windowless cell the assassin could sense the rising of the sun. Somewhere within his being he could feel the free rays of the solar sphere touching the Earth beyond Golgotha's walls of steel and concrete. He had spent much of the night meditating though for the last two hours sleep had found him. He listened to the shuffling of feet beyond his cell and felt a cold chill run through him when the footfalls stopped just outside. As it had been all the days of his captivity the door swung open and the soldiers stepped in.

Julian stood and walked out under his own power. At first he had felt a cowered for walking to the Animus room this way, as if he was resigning his rebellion. Internally he knew the truth. He wasn't a coward. He was biding his time to fight another day and with each sunrise the assassin sensed that day coming closer. On that day, he promised himself, many a Combine soldier would meet their end. There was a more powerful target burned into his brain. The actual Combine. Originally he had assumed they were all off world somewhere but during his imprisonment his sharp ears had caught whispers that suggested otherwise. It was only a hunch but Julian believed the Combine had Advisors in Golgotha and if that were true the coming siege was an opportunity to fight more than just puppets of the Empire.

He looked over to where General Yakamoto's Animus was but the aged General was nowhere to be found that day. Julian wondered where the man had been moved to. How far the glorious General had fallen - How far the human race had fallen. Julian entered the Animus and took a deep breath. Another day of obscuring the secrets he longed to keep from the eyes of the Empire. Another day fighting their mental intrusions was another day closer to freedom.

Jara slipped silent as a shadow through the cramped prisoners. Due to her rising fame as a star in the arena she'd been forced to conceal her identity under rags and a hood. She appeared as nothing but another ghost now, a sad soul waiting for death to take them from the hell that the Combine had created. She reached the place where Shephard had set the meeting. There Eric and Riley met her as well as Shephard's friends Gregory Atticus, Jennifer Grey and his old CO Dwight Barnes. Where normally frowns were to be found on the faces of Golgotha's residents today smiles spontaneously appeared. Jara offered her own as she removed her hood and stood before them.

"I think we're ready," Jara said, "Between what you did in the arena before and what I've been doing I think we can get some people behind this thing."

"Good," Eric said, "The first wave of attacks is happening tonight."

"Than we better be moving," Barnes said, "the faster we spread the word the better."

"And Theta is in position?"

"She's just outside the wall," Eric confirmed, "she's been jittery what with all the scouting parties."

"Let's do this thing than," Jara grinned.

She vanished into the crowd like the reaper stopping only to whisper into the ears of the prisoners the truth. The truth that rescue was on its way, the truth that she was an assassin working for the resistance. The truth that when this battle was over the prison cells would be empty and the Resistance ranks would be full. Golgotha would stand as a monument to human perseverance and as the battle that turned the tide in the war for the first time since those initial seven hours. Like ripples in the water the other prisoners spread the word out from the initial point of contact. Each one became a mobile epicenter from ear to ear and mouth to mouth the plan was born again. Now it was only a matter of time.

Theta had waited patiently for her moment to strike for more than a day. Her journey to Golgotha, although on foot, had been swift. The Combine had indeed created a monster when they made her - a swift and deadly demon that could creep across terrain at an incredible pace. She'd been biding her time ever since hoping that Jara and the others could make good on their promise and begin a ruckus within the facility. The dark assassin had done well to keep out of sight though this meant sacrificing the warmth of fire on the chilly October nights. The Combine had given her skin that could tolerate the cold and her new cause, fighting for the Resistance, the salvation of Julian, had given her the resolve to stay the course.

Doubt did creep in from time to time but each time Theta staved off its ill effects. She had to wonder whether the decision to join the Resistance was wise. What other choice would have seemed logical? The Combine had betrayed her. They'd flipped the switch to end her life prematurely. She had failed them anyway due in no small part to the effort of one young assassin whose life she now sought to save. She couldn't beat the Resistance and so it seemed logical to join their ranks. It was more complicated than that, she knew, something had changed in her. Whether it was caused by her time in that cell in City 12 or by the removal of the Combine microchip that had nearly terminated her she wasn't sure.

She took a deep breath and set out from her small camp being careful to pick her way through the trees without being seen by the Overwatch that patrolled the woods. She could hear them walking. The Combine had made her with ears far sharper than any other human. Her aural sensitivity cut through the wind to listen in on their radio-chatter as she made her way towards a weak spot in the Golgotha defense. She had found it the day earlier, an entry point that was automated rather than guarded. It was clear by the markings on the door that it was intended for assassins to come and go as they pleased.

Theta wanted to wait for the others to give word that the riots were underway but the sun had already set and time was running out. The infantry had already departed City 12 for their march to Golgotha and in the morning the convoy would set out. The dark assassin made her decision and stepped up to the automated door. She knew her own eyes, even in the body of Mu, would likely set off the alarms. She had anticipated that of course and brought with her a souvenir from the ruins of the Anasazi. She pulled the severed head of Sigma from her bag and pressed it to the retina scanner. A smile grew on her lips as the steel door opened and she slipped into Golgotha. She pried away a steel duct covering and squeezed herself into the ventilation system. She would need to stick to the shadows and hope that Jara came through and that the riots would begin shortly.

Allison felt so strange standing there beside the ten thousand other soldiers that made up General Amber Cartwright's division. She'd spent the last few days preparing to the best of her ability with Michael. Initially she'd felt like a real terror especially when armed with the weapons and armor that Michael had made for her. Now though, with the sun rising and battle just hours away, she wondered what on Earth she was doing. There was no turning back now, she knew, and in truth she had little desire to sit this one out. Although her thirst for revenge had all but died she still desired to make a difference out there. So much of her life had been spent involuntarily assisting the Combine and now she had an opportunity to undo any damage years spent in the Animus had done.

Michael noted the nervousness in her incredible blue eyes as he helped her up into the truck beside him. She seemed utterly lost in the chaos of battle preparations. Michael felt a certain pride seeing her like this though knowing that the girl he'd rescued from the clutches of the Combine had become a whole person. She was no longer a fragmented collection of personalities vying for a place within her mind. Julian, he knew, was partially responsible for giving the girl something and someone to hold onto. Now, however, she had a chance to be whole even without the young assassin around.

General Cartwright watched the preparations from atop one of the armored trucks. Like clockwork the soldiers got to their vehicles. There were nearly a thousand trucks and vans here. In order to get this number they had been importing them for more than a week and getting each and every one up and running in time for the siege had been no simple task. It was truly an impressive sight for the woman who was the youngest General in the Resistance. She knew that what they were fighting for the opportunity to birth new Generals. If Golgotha could be brought down it opened the door to new human life. The world had aged twenty-one years without a single birth but now it would all be different. She smiled and patted Desmond the on the shoulder.

"Come on sour puss," she grinned, "Let's get this mobile death-machine moving. We are gonna kick some serious ass tonight!"

"Indeed we are," Desmond agreed unable to resist her infectious excitement, "Indeed we are."

"By the way," she remarked lewdly, "I need someone to help me make a baby after this is all over."

"I know just the girl," Desmond joked with a grin.

Desmond knew it wouldn't be long now.

Jara watched as the chaos began. It started as a low uproar much louder than the usual din of conversation. Soon enough fights and brawls broke out amongst inmates. Jara knew they were staged but the guards quickly began to swarm. At first the guards seemed more interested in watching the fights but soon enough the entire room was abuzz with action. Inmates beat at the walls and kicked over tables and screamed as loud as they could.

The stun batons emerged then and the guards slipped into the crowd beating back waves of angry rioters that threatened to consume them. The guards were devoured by the sheer number of prisoners like ants consuming the carcass of a bee. Like piranhas they swarmed across the prison. Only those in single-cells were unable to create a ruckus though they all added to the noise. The cries for freedom went up to the highest heavens.

Jara saw a small group of Combine Elite's attempting to sneak into the crowd. The assassin saw that they were armed not with stun batons but with Pulse Rifles. She sprung into action then rushing forward as the first shots were fired into the crowd. Before the third round even made it from the barrel of the Pulse Rifle Jara had covered two hundred feet and round-housed the rifle right from the Elite's hands. While his eyes followed the flying weapon she jumped kicked him in the chest sending him careening back into his fellow Elites. They lifted their rifles and attempted to fire but Jara was too quick. She leapt at the nearest Elite and grabbed his wrist disarming him and taking his AR2. Down fell one, than two, then three and before long all six Elites lie dead.

Jara handed out the Pulse Rifles and reloaded her own before turning her attention to the rest of the Elites now pouring into the main room of the facility in full riot gear including shields. She lifted her pulse rifle and fired off several rounds taking out the first few to enter before being forced to find cover behind a nearby overturned table as they returned fire. She caught her breath and tried to remember their positions in her mind. She lifted the rifle over the table and blind-fired a smile growing across her face when she heard three cries of pain from three subsequent Elites. Elites, the name seemed ill given considering their stupidity in staying put.

The rioting continued despite the armed guards many of whom were opening fire into the crowd. Soon enough, however, a loud hum screeched throughout the prison. It echoed from wall to wall. The rioters clutched their arms and fell to the floor twitching and unable to move. With the crowds in apparent agony the riot Elites moved in closer now accompanied by a figure in dark armor on the balcony.

"Riots," Tao said with surprise as he made his way to the floor of the room and walked amongst the prisoners, "You thought you could riot here in Golgotha? I'm afraid that won't work," he approached Jara and lifted the table to look upon the woman who lie paralyzed on the floor before him, "The chips we installed when you were processed were designed for just such an occasion. Human beings are so easily controlled. You respond so well to pain," he said coldly bending to look Jara in the eyes, "Don't you?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Jara replied with a smile.

The crowd leapt to their feet then and swarmed over Tao who was unable to believe what was happening. They grabbed him, dozens of hands holding him fast as Jara placed the Pulse Rifle to his head. She pulled up her sleeve as she did revealing that she had removed the microchip that had been placed beneath her skin. Others in the crowd did likewise showing the scars that had been made when they removed the chips. She pulled not the main trigger as Tao had hoped but the secondary trigger. The crowd around him stepped back as the Dark Energy grenade hit him directly in the face and fazed him from existence in a puff of white flame.

"Now's the time!" Jara yelled to the crowd. She pointed to the riot control Elites that now seemed more than a little nervous, "Fight!"

Jara had expected far more Resistance but what she didn't know was that at that exact moment the convoy had arrived and the battle was about to begin outside. With Golgotha almost entirely emptied of troops only a few hundred Combine Elites stood between the prisoners and their freedom.

Julian sat on the floor of his cell reflecting on the Animus session he'd only finished an hour ago. Within it Altair had become dangerously close to the location of a Piece of Eden, a Spear that had pierced the side of Christ during the Crucifixion. The Combine now had a general idea of where to find the ancient device though the full truth was still a mystery to them Julian knew it was only a matter of time. He sat alone in the dark with his heavy heart trying his best to meditate. His breathing became deep as he tried to clear his mind of the images he'd seen in the Animus. The shadows of the past were trying to devour his mind, the bleed through becoming stronger with each passing day he spent in the machine.

Something broke the young assassin's concentration. Sirens. The sound of sirens somewhere beyond his cell brought an instant smile to his face. At last the reckoning had come. At last the Combine would meet their end. Julian stood and pressed his ear to the door basking in the aural sensation as the siren song blared. He wondered how long it would take them to win the battle against the legions of soldiers that would stand against them. Golgotha housed more than twenty thousand Overwatch and a few hundred Striders and Hunters as well as Gunships. Still the young assassin was optimistic. He would get to see his Father again and get to gave in Allison's blue eyes again. The fires of hope burned brighter in him now than they had in weeks.

Julian leapt back at the sight of a figure appearing in the dark. Even his sharp assassin eyes couldn't make out who it was at first, the darkness almost complete within the cell. What he originally took as a phantasm, a ghost of his past brought on by one too many sessions in the Animus quickly revealed itself as the man in the blue suit. An orange glow emanating from a certain golden sphere revealed his identity.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Julian asked taking a seat.

"I have been meaning to congratulate you Mister Miles," the G-Man spoke, "But I had to wait until the Combine were otherwise occupied."

"Than the siege has begun," Julian stated and the G-Man's expression told him he was correct, "What exactly are you congratulating me on?"

"You have not revealed the truth to the Combine," the G-Man explained, "The Pieces remain somewhat safe although right now your Father is about to put them and himself in considerable danger."

"Are you going to let me out of here or not?" Julian asked feeling the itch to get out and fight.

"I am not allowed to intervene this time Mister Miles," the G-Man explained, "But I will afford you the answers you have been seeking about my own identity."

"About why I saw you through Altair's eyes?" Julian asked and the G-Man nodded.

"As you have no doubt guessed I am not human. My kind were the first. We had a magnificent civilization on the Earth. Before that you were just apes. We made you what you are Mister Miles."

"We?"

"Gods, Mister Miles. You were our loyal servants until two began a rebellion. They fell from our graces and took the apple. Adam and Eve are the names you know them by today. After that our kind and yours were nearly wiped out by a cataclysm. A portal-storm that scorched the Earth. We sacrificed ourselves to stop the Combine from coming through the first time. We tried to warn your Father that they would come again but he was too late to prevent it."

"How many of you are left?" Julian asked.

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say Mister Miles," the G-Man said with a grin on his thin lips, "But now that you know the truth that some of us have survived you will be watched closely indeed."

"But you're going to leave me here in this cell still under Combine control?" Julian asked incredulously, "I think you're lying, I think you're just some government stooge who found a few Pieces of Eden and have declared yourself a God."

"Believe what you want, it will not change the truth," The G-Man replied, "Until we meet again, Mister Miles."

Julian watched the man vanish before his eyes. The young assassin took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind but he found the task impossible. His excitement about his impending freedom was now coupled with confusion about the truth that the G-Man had just delivered. There was only one man who could confirm or deny the veracity of those claims - his Father.


	20. Chapter 20: Omega

Chapter Twenty: Omega

Theta had been crawling in the cramped ventilation system for several hours now slowly getting an idea of where she was going. She'd stopped only once to gain access to a Computer Terminal before slipping into a nearby chute. She'd accessed a read-out of the buildings vents and ducts and was now finally nearing her destination. Sweat poured from her as she squeezed herself toward her destination listening with her augmented ears to the sounds of Combine boots against the hard metallic floor of Golgotha's Citadel. It seemed she would be encountering some resistance in the room ahead.

The sirens had stopped blaring now although the facility was still on high alert. She knew the battle was likely raging outside with Desmond and his forces facing down nearly thirty thousand Overwatch just outside the facility. At last the dark assassin saw her way out, she peered down the vent and decided it best if she fell feet first. She slipped her legs over the side of the opening and plummeted about twenty feet down the chute until her spring-loaded legs made contact with the grate below. The metallic covering fell and so did Theta landing gracefully in the room below.

She quickly surveyed the room taking notice of nearly a dozen Combine Elites and less than half a dozen Overwatch all of whom had turned toward her when the steel grate clanged against the floor. She offered them a grin and cracked her neck in preparation for the fight. The Elites were the first to move lifting their weapons to end her life. Theta had a weapon of her own though, with motion so quick as to be almost invisible the three Elite's that had their Pulse Rifles trained in her direction fell dead clutching the throwing knives that were lodged in their throats as their blood spurted across the walls.

Theta knew she had to move quickly. She took out one of the Overwatch before he could squeeze the trigger of his MP7 but found herself out of throwing knives. Out came her katana. What once had been a weapon used to cut the life from Resistance soldiers became a tool for the swift death of a room full of Combine soldiers. The first Elite was nearly cut in two, the second's intestines spilled out onto the floor. One of them managed to get some shots off after seeing his friends getting killed he was so panicked his fire was erratic. Theta removed his arm and grabbed his AR2 using it to finished all but one of the soldiers.

"Please, don't hurt me," the soldier pleaded, "Take any weapon you want."

"I want to know where Julian Miles is being kept," Theta demanded, "And if you cannot give me the information I will need the authorization code for prisoner information at the terminal."

The panicked Overwatch punched in the code but he made one fatal mistake. He spun on Theta pulling a knife from its sheath at his side and trying to drive it toward her. Instinct took over the dark assassin as she grabbed the man's wrist and twisted it forcing him to drop the knife. She lifted her Pulse Rifle and ended his life with six rounds to the stomach.

With her grizzly work complete she set about finding her way to the detention block on the Animus level. Animus level. She was amazed that the Combine had an entire level in this Citadel dedicated to the Animus. How many poor souls were trapped within those machines? In truth she knew little about them other than what she'd been told by her former Combine superiors.

She was currently in a weapons testing lab which helped explain why the room was still so heavily guarded. To her left a massive steel door closed off a room marked with a Greek symbol she'd seen before. Her lips moved to the name of the symbol, Omega. Theta knew she couldn't linger despite her curiosity about the famed Project Omega, the project that had been partially responsible for her freedom. To her right was a weapon of some kind with a white plastic frame. She ran her hands over it. The tag identifying it seemed scribbled in a language she'd only seen a handful of times, the written characters that made up the language of the Combine. The true Combine were sickly slug-like creatures that were more like insects than mammals and yet truly alien to the planet Earth.

The next weapon caught her eye even more for it was one she recognized. The Sword of Eden shined brightly. Theta noted the runes carved into, strange symbols unlike any she'd ever seen. It was clear that these markings had been worn away with time although whatever the Combine had done to the sword during its short stay at Golgotha had certainly made the ancient blade shimmer like new. She couldn't resist the temptation to touch it and before long it seemed as if the blade had leapt into her hand. No sooner had her skin contacted the blade sirens began to wail across the facility. She looked around to make sure no Combine were in the immediate area and ran headlong toward the detention area hoping to find Julian as quickly as she could.

****

Desmond surveyed the battle from a hilltop not far from where it was taking place. Already the fight had been going on for more than two hours. Thousands of Combine had been pouring from Golgotha though many stayed just behind its protective walls. Striders lumbered from two massive bay doors but Cartwright's rocket brigade caught them in the crossfire. Nearly two thousand rockets sliced through the air targeting the three-legged synths as well as the Hunters that scouted ahead of them. The Hunters had proved a unique problem of being too fast for laser guided rockets and the Resistance ranks had suffered considerable losses just in the battle against the Synthetic units.

That was part of the reason Desmond was suiting up. He would wear his assassin armor but replace certain pieces of it with the Armaments and Armor of Eden. The Breastplate of Eden. The Gauntlet of Eden. The Spear of Eden. The Helm of Eden. The Shield of Eden. He stood before his fellows then each of them wearing a look of worry on their faces as he made his way toward the battlefield in full regalia.

"He's going to get himself killed," Hassan said turning to Vidic, "The Pieces will drain his strength if he uses them all at once."

"Than let us pray," Vidic replied, "That he does not use them all at once."

Desmond did not care if the decision was wise. He'd seen too many men and women die already that day. In fact his entire career as a Resistance leader had been spent watching others fight valiantly and die for a freedom that was still far from won. Now was the time for Desmond Moses Miles to truly lead his people out of the Wilderness and into the Promised Land. He felt a surge of inner strength as he caught sight of the Combine though they were still some distance away on the horizon.

The Resistance soldiers used the trees as cover and so did Desmond. Despite his age and being weighed down by the armor Desmond was quite spry as he slipped from tree to tree. Autumn seemed to have arrived early here as the fallen orange and yellow leaves impeded his stealth. Even the quick feet of the elder assassin created a crunch with each step on the dead foliage. He turned to the trees as the only way and shimmied up the nearest trunk.

Harkening back to the days of his ancestors free running across sprawling cities Desmond leapt from tree to tree as he drew closer to the Combine. He had chosen an easy target, a group of some forty or fifty Overwatch who had broken off into the woods nearby in an attempt to flank the main Resistance line. He reached out his hand and trusted the branch to hold before swinging himself out and leaping to the next tree. Satisfied that he was close enough to the group he stood on the strongest branch of the tree he was in and summoned the power of the Spear. Desmond threw it like a javelin aiming it perfectly. It landed in the midst of the soldiers who looked at it with confused expressions before a burst of powerful energy hurled them all backward away from the Spear.

Desmond dropped the tree and ran in. Several of the soldiers were to their feet now and one of them opened fire. The old assassin lifted the shield and listened with satisfaction as the bullets struck the shield and were sent backward by a pulse of energy. They retraced their trajectory and burrowed home into the Combine soldier's that had fired them. The soldiers on his left were moving in on his unshielded side but Desmond lifted his gauntlet and pointed it at each of them individually sending each soldier crashing against a tree trunk nearby. Several rounds of ammunition managed to get past both gauntlet and shield onto to hit harmlessly against the Breastplate of Eden.

Desmond lifted the spear from the soil and rushed for a soldier who was about to fire cutting the man down with the spear before turning the crimson-stained blade on the others there. One by one they fell either to the swift spear or the powerful pulses the Pieces provided. At last Desmond stood alone in the woods surrounded by corpses. His chest heaved and he felt dizzy for a moment as he staggered toward the main battlefield. He steeled himself against the fatigue - he needed to stand beside his troops.

****

Allison took cover behind a boulder as the bullets whizzed in. Together with a squad of fellow soldiers she and Michael had been attempting to storm a fortified Turret nearby one of the bay doors that allowed troops in or out. Unfortunately this meant that every time they managed to hit a few soldiers could rush out to replace the injured one and so taking the turret had been slow going. To make things worse other turrets nearby had a bead on their position and were now offering suppressive fire with MP7s, Overwatch sniper rifles and turret pulse fire. For Allison the ordeal was all too familiar to something that had happened in the Vietnam jungle more than seventy years ago. Flashes and fragments of memory from those dark times in some ancestor's life had returned to her making her freeze up momentarily as the suppressive fire continued.

"If we sit here they're going to flank us eventually," Davis, one the squad, said.

"Or fire a rocket or a grenade or send a Hunter in," Rachel pointed out.

"Not exactly an optimist are you Rachel?" Michael asked with a grin.

"Sir?"

"Allison," Michael shouted, "ALLISON! Stay with us girl."

"She's gone," Davis groaned, "She's mentally gone and we're totally fucked man."

"I'm not gone," Allison said snapping from her memories, "I think I just figured out how to get these guys."

"Yeah?" Davis asked peeking around to make sure they hadn't flanked them.

"I need your helmets."

Allison took the helmets from the squad and set them up just on top of the rock advising everyone to get prone against the ground. The moment the helmets reappeared the Combine began firing again. They couldn't see much beyond the rock formation they were hiding behind and were using the helmets to determine where the squad was. Slowly but surely Allison and the rest of the squad low crawled there was around finding an angle where the Combine couldn't get line of sight. Now off to the far right the rock formation was ending. With the turret's attention trained off in the other direction Allison directed a quick flanking maneuver. Before the Overwatch could swing their turrets Allison was upon them. She activated her pulse gauntlet and sent them flying back before they could fire off any shots with their rifles.

"Great trick with the helmets," Rachel congratulated, "Where'd you learn that?"

"Nam."

****

Jara tossed the empty Pulse Rifle aside and unsheathed her sword. She was happy to be reunited with her Kris after spending several long days without the blade at her side. She'd hidden it in the woods along with a few other supplies the band might find useful after starting the riots. The journey outside had been risky with the battle raging all around her but holding that sword in her hand made her feel as though she was invincible. She ran silently through the trees back towards the base noting that Shephard and others had run into opposition on their way out.

The Colonel was surrounded by Overwatch and forced to fire from the doorway of the supply loading bay they'd escaped from. Jara moved in swinging her sword eloquently. The Combine had little idea she was on her way as she stabbed the first one in the back with the slender curved sword and sliced the wrist of the next forcing him to drop his gun. Without missing a beat she spun elegantly cutting at the calf of one's leg then flipping the sword to point the other way and bringing it around into the chest of another nearby Overwatch.

They had caught on to their new enemy but she was in the zone, instinct enveloped her every action as she ducked beneath the line of fire of the next soldiers cutting their shins with one outward swipe before lifting the blade tip up so that the last soldier would fall on it and impale himself. Jara got to her feet quickly bending out and back to impale a soldier trying to sneak up behind her. She grabbed his MP7 as it fell and brought it to bear on the remaining soldiers. Their bullets hadn't hit her but she quickly realized that Shephard was hurt.

"Colonel, you're hit," she noted as the man grabbed at his ribs.

"It isn't serious," Shephard said unconvincingly as he slumped to the ground.

"I'll get the medic," Eric announced rushing off into the woods.

"You did good in there," Jara said putting pressure on the bleeding.

"I didn't get Julian," Shephard said, "I'm responsible for him even being there."

"Nonsense," Jara said trying to calm him down, "You're a good man, an honorable man."

"I need you to go back," Shephard said, "I need you to make sure that Julian get's out alive."

"Theta is taking care of it."

"I don't trust that synthetic bitch," Shephard grunted, "I trust you. I'll be fine.. Go make sure that he is."

"Are you sure?"

Jara instructed one of the Resistance soldiers to keep pressure on the wound before darting back into the prison in hopes of finding Julian. She wondered what had caused Shephard's internal guilt about the young assassin's capture. There had to be some cause for why he blamed himself for so much of what had gone wrong. During their short stay together in Golgotha he'd only ever mentioned an event that might be responsible for his guilt once - Black Mesa. Jara had heard talk of what had happened that day but she didn't know all the details. She approached a computer terminal with a confused look. Years spent up North in the snow had left her with little knowledge of technology but she hoped she had enough to find the information she needed.

****

Julian watched the door to his cell open. Part of him hoped to see Allison's bright blue eyes, smiling face, and sexy body. The other part of him hoped the young woman he pined for had kept herself far from the battlefield and the danger of all out war with Golgotha. The assassin's surprise was complete when he saw the dark figure and white eyes of the Combine assassin Theta Dark. Though she wasn't nearly as tall as he was she seemed to tower over him even as he rose to his feet. He could see that she clutched in her hand the Sword of Eden and the assassin's mind swirled with possibilities as his stomach sloshed with nervous feelings and anticipation for what he assumed would be a coming fight.

"Shall I surrender?" Julian asked gesturing toward the Sword, "I doubt I could defeat you while you're holding that."

"I'm not here to fight you," Theta said.

"Good because I'm not sure your synthetic body would react well to using the Sword. It tends to drain people, age them."

"You still look young," Theta noted.

"Maybe I just aged well," Julian theorized, "Why are you here?"

"To get you out," Theta replied, "believe it or not I'm on your side now."

"I don't believe it," Julian laughed shaking his head, "I wouldn't believe it coming from a snake like you."

"Believe it," Theta demanded before handing him the Sword as proof that she wasn't going to try anything, "Regardless of whether or not you believe me we should get out of here. There's an entire army out there waiting to see you and I'm guessing right about now they desperately need the morale boost."

Julian wasn't sure what to make of this turn of events. On the one hand he was currently holding the Sword of Eden giving him the edge if Theta did indeed attempt an attack. He knew that the dark assassin was far from stupid so for her to surrender such an advantage so readily made it seem unlikely that she was going to try anything. Despite the fact an attack from her would be illogical he kept a close eyes as he inched out of his cell and stood beside her. He realized then that she was wearing a Resistance insignia something that most soldiers didn't get, something that had to be awarded by an officer. It was possible that she had killed a Resistance soldier and taken her uniform but the idea seemed far from likely. Julian grinned circling her to inspect her.

"You look pretty good for a synth," Julian said with a smile, "Must be the uniform," Julian's expression turned grim for a moment, "Don't think for a second that you joining the Resistance changes what you did or gets you off the hook."

"Do you know where they're keeping your assassin robes?" Theta asked seeming to ignore his previous statements.

"No, but I know where they're keeping the others," Julian admitted, "We need to get them out."

Theta didn't like the idea at all as she silently sprinted down the hall with Julian close behind. Walking out with Julian would have been fairly easy and her mission would have been a success. But to walk out of the battle-hardened facility with a few hundred prisoners onto a battlefield seemed like a bad idea all around. Julian had conceded the point but despite understanding and agreeing with her on the subject the young assassin was still determined to do something about the others. Julian, unlike Theta, understood how serious the damage from constant Animus sessions could be. Even his short imprisonment was likely to have hefty repercussions. To leave the others in their cells while he casually walked away with Theta would have been to walk away with a double portion of guilt.

Julian rushed down the halls using the Sword of Eden to stab the control pads on each cell. Despite its age the blade was still sharp enough to impale each panel although to his disappointment only a handful of cell doors actually opened as a result. The young assassin stopped for a moment coming face to face with what he almost thought was a ghost. The frail figure stumbled down the hall toward him with pale skin and sickly yellow eyes swatting at invisible shapes that swirled before his eyes. This specter, this human remnant, was once a great General. Julian rushed to catch him before Yakamoto could collapse to the cold Citadel floor.

"We have to get him out," Julian repeated again and again, "We have to get him out."

"Julian," Theta shouted from the other side of the hall, "Snap out of it Julian someone is coming!"

Julian felt a surge of rage at the prospect of battle and he was quick to his feet. Within seconds he was beside Theta with the Sword of Eden tight in his grip. Even without its strange powers the blade would have made an excellent weapon ideal for tearing flesh and impaling any enemy who might rise up against them.

Theta's suspicions proved correct as the lumbering giant turned the corner. Julian's mouth hung agape at the sheer height of the man but even more unnerving were the pale white eyes. Theta turned away from the inhuman thing too reminded of her own origins by it to even face it. At least nine feet tall and with intricate blackened steel armor emblazoned with the symbol Omega the giant stomped toward them. Julian was more than ready for blood after seeing Yakamoto in such a state. Power surged through him. He took several deep breaths channeling every bit of his rage as the goliath synth stepped forward.

"Come on, come on. What are you waiting for?" Julian asked beneath his breath and Theta tossed him an incredulous look.

Omega shrieked like a demon from the depths of Hell itself and stretched its arms out wide. Theta watched in horror as its flesh stretched and distorted. Hands became like razor scythes the color of bone and arms stretched with a sickly cracking sound to impossible lengths in a massive double swipe. Julian was forced to fall to his back to avoid being sliced in two while Theta fell forward to avoid the blade. Julian lifted the Sword of Eden up and sliced directly through the bleached-white blade that had once been the creature's arm. Omega seemed not to notice the loss of an appendage and Julian realized why as a ripple of flesh restored the synth's arm to a semi-normal state. Now a sharp spear appeared where digits used to be but instead of stabbing out with grotesquely long limbs Omega shot out a fragment of its flesh, the sharpened spear-tip hand cutting through the air to jab Julian's shoulder blade.

The assassin hit the floor and pulled the projectile from his shoulder casting it aside. Pain rolled through him like tidal waves over a sandy shore as he struggled to find his feet. He lifted the Sword of Eden and concentrated. A golden light surrounded the blade as the assassin lifted Omega from the ground and propelled him down the hall with a massive shockwave rippling forth from the blade carrying the behemoth to the end of the hall and knocking him against the wall. Theta had never seen the steel of a Citadel damaged before but there was a clear indentation in the wall from where Omega had impacted. She turned to the young assassin to offer her congratulations only to see him swooning with fatigue.

"I'm fine," he insisted, finding his feet and staving off dizziness with a shake of his head, "Let me finish him."

Omega was on his feet and despite being massive he had incredible speed. Julian scarcely had time to react as fragments of bone projected from nearly every inch of flesh that faced the young assassin. His fast reflexes saved him from the brunt of the damage but the tiny shards slit his flesh and cut into him.

"Is there anyway to kill this thing?" Julian asked barely able to stand after being hit and still having slivers of bone sticking from his flesh.

"How the hell should I know?" Theta inquired as the two of them ducked within a nearby cell to avoid being hit by more fragments of bone, "It seems to have an unlimited supply of excess tissue - the power source must be massive to support that kind of cellular growth. Nothing short of a Dark Energy Core."

"You can't be fucking serious," Julian exclaimed, "A Dark Energy Core wouldn't fit in a mobile unit… would it? Never mind, where on this thing would they store the core?"

"I don't know," Theta said as the footsteps grew closer beyond the door, "Wait… I can find out."

Theta felt a rush of fear as she stepped into the hall and activated her thermal vision. Despite their best attempts there was no way the Combine could mask the heat signature of a Dark Energy Core beneath the cold flesh of a synthetic. There it was, clear as day, in the upper chest, above the heart but below the neck.

"Hit him here," she said explaining to Julian.

The assassin stepped back into the hallway. Omega was ready with two sledgehammer shaped appendages. One came low the other came high but Julian leaped in the middle. Like a bullet the assassin shot through the air toward the giant's chest driving the Sword down in. The tough plate of synthetic bone nearly stopped the blade but the assassin had anticipated that and summoned the power of the blade to sink it through Omega's armor like butter.

Julian had little time to bask in the feeling of victory and the look of enraged terror on the doomed Synth's face. He ran for cover and grabbed Yakamoto leaping into one of the cells and shutting the door behind as the Dark Energy explosion rocked the corridor. The assassin waited with ears ringing before setting out into the hall again to find Theta wearing a smile of congratulations on her face. Congratulations turned to horror though and only then did Julian recognize the reflection, the shadow of what was behind him.

****

Desmond cast aside another Strider before gripping a Gunship with the power of the Pieces of Eden and bringing them to their knees. He'd come to find their power was immense when used together and that in truth they were limited only by his own mind. Despite bringing his own personal brand of Hell down on the heads of the Combine their numbers remained strong. The Pieces had drained his strength and every few minutes he had to take a moment to rest. His head was spinning constantly so much so that he could barely see straight enough to mentally lock his targets. He refused to relent though. Thousands of Resistance soldiers lie dead with more than half of the convoy forces having been killed already and the reinforcements still a good distance away. The Combine, thanks to their fortress and high number of synthetic units had lost only about four thousand of their more than twenty-five thousand troops.

The Elder assassin was surprised indeed, then, to see the sky above the Citadel light up for a moment. Desmond watched from beneath his Helm of Eden as the Advisor pods launched from the Citadel one by one flying out over the Resistance forces. What he assumed was an evacuation, however, was actually an attack as walls of psychic energy cascaded against him. He felt his knees buckling as pure kinetic energy manifested by the minds of the Combine themselves pulsated around him. He lifted his hands in one last act of defiance and locked onto the nearest pod summoning the strength of the Pieces to suck the pod from the sky. The pod hit the Earth with such force that almost nothing remained of it or its alien occupant. If this place was to be his grave he would litter it with the bodies of his enemies before succumbing to death.

****

As Julian turned he could feel the creature's cold mechanical eyes on him. He felt his feet leave the floor as the demon's psychic power took him from solid ground into the air. He growled defiantly as he looked upon the visage of his true enemy, the slug-like repugnance of a Combine Advisor. He watched the malevolent monster's serpentine tongue unfurl from its grotesque alien maw like the proboscis from a mosquito. The alien parasite rubbed its slithering tongue over him in search of some place to latch on. Julian tried to attack with the Sword, tried to summon its power but the creature caught on before he could and sent the Sword sliding down the hall. It was there that Theta picked it up.

Theta watched the Advisor assuming that it would see her as a threat but for some strange reason it seemed not to care that she had the blade in her grasp. The creature flipped Julian around and pulled back its tongue to strike. Theta rushed forward and summoned every bit of anger and animosity she had ever housed towards the Combine Empire. Every ounce of anguish and turmoil that serving their dark cause had caused her combined to activate the blade as she dove toward Julian. She lifted the glowing blade and let out a battle-cry that seemed to shake the foundation of the Citadel. The slug's body contorted and shifted and shook and Julian fell to the ground. Theta wasn't done with it. She tore at its innards and ripped at its sickly flesh until finally it burst. Entrails and green organs squirted across the floor in a final explosion of gore. With one last shriek the Advisor's empty husk fell to the floor.

****

Desmond felt the strength leave his bones. He could hear the calls of nearby soldiers, their lips moving to words he could scarcely understand, their faces worn and tired. Humanity had lost, he found himself thinking, humanity had always lost. For twenty-one years they had consistently failed - he had consistently failed. His best was never even in the realm of adequate let alone exceptional. It was his failure to prevent the invasion before it happened that had subjected humanity to twenty-one years of age and death, twenty-one years without a birth. Now it would be his failure to seal the fate of forty thousand of the last remaining men and women who walked the planet. Here at Golgotha, the place of the skull, his failure would be made whole. Darkness consumed the old man, swirling like an abyss before his tired eyes as the shadows passed before him. And then he was gone.

****

Julian looked upon the woman that had saved his life and felt sadness at seeing her like this. His hunch had been correct. Using the blade had caused Theta to age far too quickly and the power with which she wielded it had been so complete, so awe inspiringly intense, that she had been brought to the brink of death. The young assassin, himself weak from the ordeal, crouched beside her and moved her white hair from in front of her face placing his cheek next to her mouth. She was breathing. Julian felt so utterly strange. Only weeks ago she would have been trying to kill him and all of his friends and he would have been likewise trying to end her life. Yet here she was using all of her rage, all of her agony, to save his life from those that endowed her with her own.

"Why'd you do that?" Julian asked as she opened her eyes, "Why'd you risk yourself to save me?"

"Something came over me," Theta coughed weakly, her voice hardly audible even to his sharp ears, "I couldn't let that thing kill you the way it wanted to kill me."

"You really are on my side," Julian said offering her a smile, "Sorry I doubted you."

"You were right to doubt," Theta disagreed, "You were justified. Nothing is true…"

"Everything is permitted," Julian finished.

Julian felt the life fade from her body and watched the light fade from her white eyes as death took her. He took her body in his arms.

"Julian!" a voice shouted and the assassin was surprised to see Jara come bolting around the corner into the hallway, "Julian, I've been looking for you. Shephard wanted me to come back for you. I've just received word from him that the reinforcements have arrived."

Darkness was falling at Golgotha and with the setting of the sun came forty thousand Resistance soldiers marching toward the sinister prison. The convoy had been decimated and barely two thousand of the original forces remained. Morale was devastated by the loss of life but as the infantry arrived and the forty thousand relieved the convoy new hope was born for every soldier fighting there. The Advisor pods had passed and thanks to Desmond and Cartwright's rocket brigades nearly every Strider and Gunship was gone. The Combine were down to their last ditch effort, Overwatch. And there is where the Resistance had them beat, both in numbers and in skill.

It was a hard fought victory for the Resistance but it was a victory nonetheless and as the light of dawn splintered the sky the cries went up that Golgotha had fallen.

**Epilogue: **

Allison woke to find the spot beside her in bed had gone cold. She crawled out of bed and ambled onto the balcony where she knew she'd find Julian. The young assassin gazed out over the city. The lights in City 12 were ablaze that night, music resounded, and shouts went up. It was a city in celebration. It'd been two weeks since Golgotha went down and the only breaks the City took from celebrating was to capitalize on the absence of the Suppression Field. Already accounts of pregnancies were reported across the city with at least one hundred and fifty Mothers already expecting. Life was beginning anew there.

Julian knew, however, that while those who called City 12 home were able to procreate millions more lacked the ability. Even if they managed to bring a hundred thousand pregnancies to term the Combine and their lackeys would still out-number man by a considerable margin. Only when balance was restored across the planet, only when babies could be born everywhere, would the battle truly be over. No, Julian realized holding Allison close to him, only when the Combine were truly gone would Earth know peace.

"I thought I'd find you out here," Allison said, "It gives you hope to hear them like this, to see the City glowing bright."

"For once in my life I don't feel like fighting," Julian said, "and yet I know the fight is far from over. With my Father in his weakened condition I'm going to have to step up and lead."

"Come back to bed," Allison suggested offering an alluring smile, "You've earned a rest from all this business, at least for a time… or have you forgotten the Creed?"

"Nothing is true," Julian said planting a kiss on her soft lips.

"And everything is permitted," Allison replied gesturing for him to come inside with an insistent leading wag of her finger.


End file.
